


Fall To The Earth

by luxluminaire



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Colonist (Mass Effect), Developing Relationship, F/M, Nightmares, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Sexual Content, Sole Survivor (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 07:39:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 78,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1890528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxluminaire/pseuds/luxluminaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nobody told Shepard that seeing Kaidan again would be closely followed by a goddamn Reaper invasion."</p>
<p>The Reapers have arrived, and Commander Shepard has been given the enormous task of bringing the galaxy together in a way that has never been done before. The war isn't the only thing on her mind, however: coming back into contact with her old lover Kaidan causes her to reevaluate her past interactions with him and come to the conclusion that she is still irrevocably in love with him. What's more, the war brings back memories of Shepard's old demons, pushing her closer to her breaking point. Can she endure everything and survive, or will the stress of the war pull her under?</p>
<p>(Shenko throughout Mass Effect 3, weaving in and out of in-game events. Adheres mostly to canon with a few alterations and additions.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Commander Shepard’s realization that she is still in love with Kaidan Alenko doesn’t come all at once in a moment of clarity. Instead, it seeps into her consciousness like a slow-acting poison, reminding her of the all-too-brief time that they’d had together before everything went wrong. It is easy for her to pretend that she has a future with him whenever these memories surface, but soon afterward the truth of how things had been left between them always hits her full in the face.

 _You turned your back on everything we believed in. You betrayed the Alliance. You betrayed me._ His words to her months ago on Horizon twist in her side like a knife. And if he’d condemned her as a traitor for working alongside Cerberus, what would he think of her being detained by the Alliance under the blame of destroying an entire batarian system? Now, stripped of her ship and her rank, she is left with nothing else to do except come to the slow, sinking realization that no matter what has happened between them, she still loves him.

In normal circumstances, she’d be able to distract herself from these thoughts with her work, whether she is performing routine missions or dealing with the inevitable administrative crap of paperwork and comm calls. While under glorified house arrest, however, she no longer has those things to distract her. Sure, she’s good at coming up with ways to keep herself busy with the limited number of resources that she has at her disposal, but none of that is good enough to prevent her from thinking about the one man who, as far as she’s concerned, has moved on from her.

The tatters of her love life, however, are far from her only concern. On one particular morning, she wakes with the old ache of pain and loss burning deep within her heart: the grief that she has felt every year on this day since that terrible evening sixteen years ago when batarian slavers destroyed everything that she had once held dear. Nightmares, the old constant in her life, remind her of her parents’ screams when the batarians had killed them and the tears that had leaked from her eyes as she held back her own scream of terror. It has been sixteen years, half her lifetime, and yet the same images continue to torture her, making her doubt whether she has truly progressed beyond the girl who could only hide helplessly while the batarians wiped out her entire home colony.

She thinks about the batarians during her morning workout, and with each punch that she lands on the punching bag in her quarters she imagines that she is taking out one of the slavers that killed her parents. As if taking out three hundred thousand batarians with the destruction of a mass relay hadn’t been enough--but that _wasn’t_ an act of revenge, she tells herself firmly. It had merely been an unfortunate side effect beyond her control. A nagging voice in her head, however, whispers that she is secretly glad that it was a colony of batarians that had been wiped out. She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if the victims had been any other race. The loss of innocent life bothers her regardless, but with the victims being batarians… well, she doesn’t want to say that it’s _okay_ that they died, but her sense of guilt is probably not as great as it should be.

 _Considering Shepard’s previous encounters with batarians, she may have had an ulterior motive in her actions in the Bahak system_. The accusations against her echo in her mind, as if she will begin to believe them if she hears them enough. She’s sure that anyone who knows her personal history with the batarians will question her actions, no matter how many times she insists that the alternative to destroying the relay would be the arrival of the Reapers. Even Kaidan would question her, she realizes as her thoughts inevitably turns back to him. He hadd questioned her motives for working alongside Cerberus, and so surely he’ll doubt her in this situation as well.

Shepard lands a final strong punch on the punching bag, letting the physical release of her emotions force away the memory of the sneering batarian that had attacked her in her childhood home--her first kill at the tender age of sixteen. The punching bag swings back and forth on the chain that suspends it from the ceiling, sent reeling from the power of her blow. She wipes away the sweat from her forehead and reaches out to steady the punching bag. At least no one can say that she has let her physique go to seed while in Alliance custody, she thinks as she stretches out the overworked muscles of her arms.

Her first course of action after completing her workout should be to shower, but her stomach insists that she should have a proper breakfast first. Several minutes later, she’s sitting at the small kitchen table in her quarters with a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of her. She doesn’t realize how hungry she is until she has eaten almost the entire plate in a few minutes flat. It’s funny how she eats better now than she did on the Normandy, now that she has more time to prepare actual meals instead of relying on ship food.

The sound of the door opening distracts her from her eating. She looks up to see that Lieutenant James Vega, the marine who has been assigned as her guard during her detainment, has entered the room.

“Morning, Commander,” he greets her. She has given up on correcting him regarding the use of her rank. Despite his position, despite everything that she has done, he admires her too much to break the habit.

“You don’t want to get too close to me,” she says. “I haven’t taken a shower yet and I probably smell terrible.” Sweat has soaked through her tank top, making it cling to her skin with a cold dampness. She spears a bite of eggs onto her fork and shoves it into her mouth.

“Didn’t realize you could cook.” Vega nods to her plate.

“What, you thought I lived off frozen crap all the time?” she replies. “It’s bad for morale. Or so I was told.” She finishes up the last few bites on her plate and goes to the sink to wash her dishes.

“I should make you my abuela’s huevos rancheros sometime,” says Vega. “You’ll never look at eggs the same way again.”

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to be that nice to me.” Shepard rinses her plate, wanting nothing more than to douse herself in the water coming from the faucet. “Anyway, any reason why you’re here?”

“Just checking up on you. Supposed to tell you that you’ve got the day free today, but you should start preparing yourself for a meeting tomorrow. Nothing major, just a few people from the defense committee.”

“Great.” Shepard sighs deeply, setting her plate on the counter after drying it. “I was kind of hoping that I’d have something to distract me today, not tomorrow.”

“You have something that you need to be distracted from that’s not the accusations brought against you?” Vega inquires.

Shepard hesitates, unsure if she should tell him what has been on her mind since the early hours of the morning. She trusts him, though, enough to give him even the smallest glimpse of what’s going on in her head.

“You ever hear of Mindoir?” she asks. “Small farming colony out in the middle of nowhere in the Attican Traverse that was pretty much completely wiped out by batarian slavers? That happened sixteen years ago today. You’re looking at one of the survivors. My parents and everyone else I cared about were either killed or taken by the batarians.”

“Oh.” Vega’s expression rapidly shifts to show his regret that he has asked the question. “Yikes. Sorry I said anything.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He hadn’t known, after all, and telling him was her own decision, even if it’s something that she generally dislikes talking about.

“So, uh…” Vega pauses, trying to find the right words to rectify the downward turn that the conversation has taken. “You have any other plans for today?”

“Might catch up on some reading,” she replies. “And by ‘catch up,’ I mean ‘see if I can get through all the books on my omni-tool before all of this is over.’” Another advantage, if you could call it that, of her incarceration: she now has the free time to pursue the hobbies that fall by the wayside when she’s on active duty.

“Never pegged you as a bookworm,” says Vega. “You’re just full of surprises today, Commander.”

“If there’s one thing my mom taught me, it’s how to appreciate good literature.” Shepard returns to the kitchen table and sits down. “She also tried to teach me how to cook, but I didn’t really get the hang of that until I was older. Almost set the kitchen on fire helping her make dinner one night when I was fourteen, and she kind of gave up after that.” It feels strange to talk about her mother like this. Her parents are usually a topic that she stays away from, locking the memories away in the deep recesses of her mind, and yet here she is, telling stories about her mother on this day, of all days.

“Huh.” Vega looks at her with curiosity, as if he’s seeing her in a new light after hearing more personal details about her in this single encounter than she has told him over the months that they have known each other. “Well, enjoy your reading. I’ll be back to check in later.”

She makes a noise of assent in response. Once Vega has left, she stands up to move to the couch. The living quarters that the Alliance has given her during her detainment are small and cramped, but the amount of furniture and amenities that she has been given is far more than she would have expected. She also feels a certain degree of luck from getting assigned a marine like Vega for her guard as well. He has probably heard stories of her victories throughout most of his time with the Alliance, and she wonders how different she must seem to him now as the hero turned war criminal.

Especially on a day like today, the space of her quarters also reminds her of the last time that she’d been in Alliance custody: the dark period of almost two years that she had spent in an Alliance facility for orphans who had lost their families in conflict. She’s not as reckless now as she was back then, though, all destroyed batarian systems considered. Her years in the military have disciplined her enough to know when to stay put and take orders. As restless as her incarceration makes her feel, she is no longer the teenager who poorly handles her issues by sneaking out and engaging in dangerous behaviors. There’s too much on the line for her to do anything but wait until the conclusion of her trial.

Shepard lights up her omni-tool and checks her email, a habit that remains unbroken even though nowadays the Alliance monitors her communication so closely that she might as well be cut off from the rest of the galaxy. No new messages have come in, but her eyes linger on an old email that she has saved. The record of the conversation shows the most recent message sent, an outgoing message from her with the subject heading of “Re: About Horizon.”

Several months have passed since she sent this email, and yet she remembers as clear as ever the amount of time she had spent agonizing over what to reply to the last piece of communication that she has received from Kaidan. She remembers reading the email for the first time as well, not having the foresight to read it in the privacy of her cabin. She’d felt a terrible sinking sensation reading the words that he had written to her: the very Kaidan-like apology at the beginning rapidly turning into his doubt that anything existed between them anymore. From the other side of the galaxy map Kelly Chambers had looked at her with concern before asking her in her normal cheerful fashion whether she wanted to talk about it. (Kelly’d had a field day when she had gotten her hands on Shepard’s psych profile. Anyone with an interest in psychology would upon reading the diagnoses of anxiety and depression in conjunction with PTSD, accompanied by the general note of “potential instability due to severe past trauma.” Shepard has always hated that word, “instability.” It’s as if her therapists think she’s some kind of volatile substance that may explode at any moment.)

Shepard knows that there is no further communication beyond the message that she sent months ago, but she selects it anyway. The only words that stare back at her are her own, which she had spent days agonizing over to form the best response that she could give after her disastrous encounter with Kaidan and the almost-as-disastrous email.

_Kaidan,_

_I won’t lie and say that the way you acted on Horizon didn’t hurt. But I also understand how hard it must have been for you to see me alive again. Like you said, you’d moved on, and so seeing me there must have made things really complicated, to say the least. I guess I’ve been so focused on trying to reconcile the fact that I’ve essentially lost the past two years that I’ve never really thought about how hard it must have been for everyone who mourned me to suddenly have me alive._

_But you say that I never made any attempt to contact you after I came back, and that’s not true. Wherever I went, you were always the first person that I asked about. But I couldn’t get any information from the Alliance, and Cerberus didn’t know anything either. Maybe it was a foolish hope to think that things would stay the same between us after everything that happened, but I never forgot about the time that we spent together before the Normandy went down. Do you know what my last thought was when I was dying? It was my regret that I never got to say a proper goodbye to you and tell you that I love you one last time. So don’t you dare suggest that I ever stopped caring about you. Because I still do. Or at least I want to._

_I’m not crazy about working with Cerberus either. But I owe them for bringing me back, and they give me access to the resources that I need to take down the Collectors. I don’t know what’s going to happen when all of this is over. You should know, though, that my allegiance will always lie with the Alliance and with you. And that’s something that’s not going to change, no matter what._

_\- Shepard_

She closes the email, unable to bear looking at the words that have gone unanswered. His lack of response indicates that he remains unsure about his feelings for her, and at the very most he has nothing more but uncertainty and what-ifs. Not like her, whose feelings are becoming increasingly more certain.

Shepard shuts off her omni-tool and stands up from the couch to finally take the shower that she should have taken before eating breakfast. She enters the bathroom and turns on the showerhead, listening to the steady sound of water hitting the floor as she peels off her sweaty clothes. No matter how hard she tries to focus her mind on other things, thoughts of both Kaidan and her parents consume her when she steps into the shower. Kaidan doesn’t even know very much about her personal history, now that she thinks about it. He only knows the bare basics: that her parents died in the Mindoir raid when she was a teenager and that she was the sole survivor of a disastrous mission on Akuze early in her military career. Hell, even _Vega_ knows more about her past history than Kaidan does, thanks to their most recent conversation about Shepard’s mother. So what does that say about her and Kaidan in the end?

One month. They’d been together for only one month between the downfall of Saren and the destruction of the Normandy. Is that really enough time to fall in love with someone? Can she say that she is in love with him when there are so many parts of her mental landscape, memories and nightmares, that she has not yet shown him? Her head whispers “no,” but her heart... well, her heart reminds her that disguising denial with rationalization isn’t always the best idea.

She leans against the wall of the shower, running a hand through her dampened hair. _My name is Commander Shepard, and I’m the biggest fool in Alliance custody_. Her thoughts form a parody of the endorsements that she has given to various shops on the Citadel. She’s supposed to be a soldier, for God’s sake. Always marching forward, never looking back, and yet here she is, dwelling on things that she should have forgotten about long ago. These are the things that she should have unceremoniously discarded, like the long tresses of red hair that she’d cut off after Mindoir and the first name that she has stopped associating herself with because it represents the person who was helpless to save the people who mattered. Like the memories of Kaidan that she should step away from, because it’s not like they’re doing her a lot of good now.

The water from the shower pools at the drain before flowing downward. Shepard closes her eyes, imagining her fears, anxieties, and painful memories going down with the water.

They don’t leave.


	2. Chapter 2

Some phrases stick in Shepard’s head like the tune of a catchy song--usually from books, sometimes from unexpectedly eloquent mission reports. The one phrase that she can’t get out of her head lately comes from the unfortunate source of Kaidan’s old email: _and then I saw you, and everything pulled hard to port_. It’s an apt turn of phrase, and not only because of the ship metaphor. She’s always imagined that she’ll feel the same way when she next sees him, everything rapidly changing course as every emotion that she has felt toward him swells up inside her.

As it turns out, however, the more accurate phrase to use is “pulled hard to port and then hurtled straight into a black hole,” because no one told her that seeing Kaidan again would be closely followed by a goddamn Reaper invasion.

Everything happens so fast after that red beam blasts Vancouver apart: evacuating Earth on the Normandy, being reinstated as Commander, leaving Anderson behind to lead the resistance, heading to Mars to investigate an issue with the Prothean archives. It’s strange to be fighting alongside Kaidan again (just like old times, she thinks in a moment of nostalgia), and she can’t ignore the underlying tension between them. His constant questioning of whether she’s working for Cerberus grates at her. She has half a mind to address him with the passive-aggressive formal vitriol of “Major Alenko” when he snaps “Don’t ‘Kaidan’ me” in response to her attempts to reason with him. Vega observes their interactions with confusion, and Liara, when they find her in the archives, shoots them concerned glances whenever Kaidan’s hints of distrust bubble at the surface.

And then everything _really_ pulls hard to port when a Cerberus synthetic smashes Kaidan’s skull into the side of a shuttle, leaving him bruised and broken and barely clinging to life. In that single moment, everything becomes clear to her: that no matter how he feels, no matter how much he questions her involvement with Cerberus, she still wants him. Still _needs_ him.

Their departure from the Sol system as they head to the Citadel passes by in a blur. Shepard has her normal duties to perform, which she has almost missed during her time in containment, but something keeps pulling her to the empty medbay where Kaidan rests. She can never make it past the doorway before turning back, though. Seeing him lying there unconscious makes the current situation seem more real to her, and she’s not sure she can handle that right now.

“Shepard.” Liara’s voice stops her in the middle of her fifth trip to the medbay. Shepard halts like a child being caught out of bed, startled and dreading having to explain herself. “You need to stop worrying. Once we get to the Citadel and Kaidan gets the proper medical care, I’m sure he’ll be all right.”

As much as she understands that Liara is trying to calm her nerves, Shepard recognizes the uncertainty in her voice. Liara’s concern, however, is enough to make her turn around from her designated path.

“Yeah,” she admits. “Making myself crazy over this won’t help. Even though,” she adds in defeat, “all I want to do is ask how long it’ll be until we reach the Citadel.”

“Our estimated time of arrival at the Citadel will be in approximately two hours and twenty-seven minutes.” EDI’s calm voice echoes out from the intercom, her all-seeing presence on the ship privy to their conversation.

“Thanks, EDI.” Shepard tries to keep the exasperation out of her voice. Joker really should teach the AI not to eavesdrop.

“Jeff wishes for me to inform you that if he cuts some corners he can reduce the time to two hours and eleven minutes,” EDI continues on. The measured intonations of her voice take on an unmistakably helpful tone.

“Tell him not to overdo it,” says Shepard. “We don’t want any accidents.” Joker may be one of the best pilots in the Alliance, but she’s not convinced that any corners he may cut won’t fall under the category of reckless flying, even with the severity of the circumstances that bring the Normandy to the Citadel.

“Understood, Shepard,” EDI replies. “In the meantime, your stress levels have increased significantly since leaving Mars. I suggest doing something relaxing.”

“Yeah, like I can relax when there’s a Reaper invasion happening.” This time, Shepard cannot hold back her sigh of exasperation. As if she really needs EDI pointing out her stress at a time like this.

“EDI is right, you know,” Liara points out in the gentle sort of voice that immediately makes Shepard think _oh no, not you too_. She doesn’t follow up this response with any further words, but the soft touch of her hand on Shepard’s forearm tells her enough.

Shepard realizes that she has subconsciously drawn herself into a vulnerable position, her arms crossed in front of her hugging herself for support. She shifts into a more relaxed stance, moving her arm so that Liara’s hand is touching empty air.

“Okay,” she admits. “Maybe I _am_ a little tense.” She rolls her shoulders to try to ease some of the tension there. “Should probably, I don’t know, get some rest or something.” She hasn’t slept since before the Reapers hit Earth. It’s not unusual for her to go lengthy periods of time without sleep, but going almost nonstop for over a day is likely further contributing to her stress.

“I will alert you when we arrive at the Citadel and direct any of the crew’s concerns elsewhere,” EDI says. “Rest well, Shepard.”

Liara doesn’t say anything. Her concerned gaze remains on Shepard.

“Don’t give me that look,” Shepard says to her. “I’ll be fine.” She runs a hand across her face in exhaustion before letting it drop to her side. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes. You too.”

They part ways. Shepard goes to the elevator and rides it up to her cabin, the place where she has barely spent half an hour after returning to the Normandy. The only time that she has spent here was to take a shower after taking off from Mars and unpack some of the personal belongings that have made the transition from Earth back to the Normandy. The room shows fewer signs of life than she remembers. The display case is empty, with the model ship collection that normally fills it boxed up. The aquarium has been drained of water, and she suspects that the fish that she once kept there have long since died. Even the hamster cage is vacant. She hopes that her hamster has merely gotten loose somewhere in the ship and hasn’t joined her fish in death.

She walks over to her bed and sits down, bending forward to unfasten her boots. Her fingers fumble with the buckles before she is able to pull them off her feet. She flops down onto the bed, staring up through the skylights in the ceiling. She should be out there fighting the Reapers, not lying here helpless while one of her men may very well be dying two decks below. Sure, once she consults the Council she’ll have a definite direction to go in terms of assembling the necessary forces for retaking Earth, but now, as she’s in this moment of in between, feelings of uselessness overwhelm her.

Her thoughts travel back to Anderson staying to lead the fight on Earth. She’d put on a strong face when she’d said goodbye to him, but his farewell had brought back the memories of another man, one who’d forced her to leave him behind on Akuze nine years earlier. She tries to reason with herself, telling herself that Earth and Akuze are two entirely different situations. She’s going to be able to come back for Anderson, unlike her inability to come back for--and she stops that thought right there, clenching her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. No. She doesn’t need memories of Akuze sneaking their way into her consciousness on top of everything else.

“Pull yourself together, Shepard,” she tells herself, using the same authoritative voice that she would use with a panicking subordinate. She has encouraged so many men and women in the years that she has spent in various positions of leadership, and yet she has never quite discovered the secret behind encouraging herself. It’s the worst kind of irony there is, especially now that she is about to embark on the enormous task of uniting the galaxy to face the Reapers.

She closes her eyes, taking a deep inhale and exhale to steady herself. Tiny pinpricks of light, not unlike the stars circling above her, dance behind her closed eyelids. The star-like lights form together to create what she remembers of Mindoir’s nighttime sky, the sky that she used to stare up at as a child lying in the open fields of her home colony. It is the place that her mind goes whenever she wants to relax, returning to the times before everything changed for her. Sometimes she recalls the sound of her father’s voice from when he’d sit beside her, helping her identify the constellations that they’d made up names for.

 _Can you find yourself?_ he’d ask her, referring to the constellation that they’d named after her--the river. _Yeah_ , he’d say once she pointed up to it. _Good job, kiddo_.

The half-imagined, half-recollected starlit field falls into silence. The peaceful landscape calms Shepard, allowing her to let go of the worries that have been nagging at her since leaving Earth. Her mind slips in and out of wakefulness, and she curls up on her side, letting the light doze of sleep overtake her as she awaits the ship’s arrival on the Citadel.

* * *

By the time they reach their destination, Shepard’s life hurtles forward at full speed once more, with Kaidan being rushed to Huerta Memorial Hospital and her having to deal with that in combination with her duty to report to the Council. Thankfully, she has been able to delay her meeting with the Council for a few hours, leaving her once again restless as she sits in the hospital waiting room awaiting news on Kaidan. Seeing a few more familiar faces (most notably Dr. Chakwas) helps, but ultimately she is back in the terrible mental place of being wracked with uncertainty.

This time, her preferred coping mechanism to give herself something to focus on besides her worries is slowly counting backwards from one thousand. She has almost made it to three hundred when Liara approaches her, breaking her concentration.

“I brought you some coffee,” Liara says. “Two creams, no sugar, right?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Shepard accepts the cup from her and takes a sip. The coffee doesn’t taste spectacular, but at least it’s something. The two hours of sleep that she’d gotten before their arrival at the Citadel aren’t quite enough to keep her awake without the help of caffeine.

Liara sits down beside her. At first, neither of them speak. “Have you heard any updates on Kaidan?” she asks, finally breaking the silence.

Shepard shakes her head. “I keep telling myself that no news is good news, but… I don’t know. I’m so afraid that something’s going to go wrong.” She sighs, looking down at the coffee cup that she holds between her hands. “All I wanted was for things to go back to how they were. I guess that was too much to ask.”

“Do you…” Liara hesitates before changing her words. “Are there still… _feelings_ that you have for him?”

“I don’t know.” Her response isn’t entirely truthful, but she has to give Liara an uncertain answer to account for the inevitable variable of where Kaidan’s feelings will lie when he recovers from his injuries ( _when_ , not _if_ ). “I mean, it’s been almost three years since we’ve been together. He made it pretty clear when I saw him last year that he’d moved on. And… well, things are a lot different now. We’ve changed over the past three years. All of us have.”

Liara fixes her eyes on her. Even though the time that she has spent as an information broker has hardened her, her blue gaze has something inherently calming about it. “You don’t seem like you’ve changed,” she says.

“I died.” This statement continues to feel strange to her, even after the months that have passed since she awoke on the Cerberus operating table. “They tried to bring me back the same person that I was, but that doesn’t change the fact that there are some things that are different. Sometimes I wonder…” She trails off there, unable to articulate the sense of wrongness about her reconstructed body that occasionally haunts her. Kaidan’s previous doubt over whether she is the same person as before doesn’t help to ease these worries.

“Shepard?” Liara prompts her.

She shakes her head. “Never mind.” She takes another drink from her coffee cup. “I guess all that’s left to do now is to move forward and take Earth back.”

“There’s the Shepard I know.” A small smile twitches at Liara’s mouth.

“Just as long as I can get through to the Council. Considering last time I brought up the Reapers to them I got goddamn _air quoted_ at, I’m not too optimistic.”

“The threat has spread beyond Earth, though,” Liara points out. “The whole galaxy is scared now. I don’t think you’ll have any problem in convincing them that the threat is legitimate. Besides, I always have my, ah… _resources_ up my sleeve if necessary.”

Shepard laughs. If someone had told her three years ago that the timid archaeologist that she found trapped in a Prothean dig site would end up offering to use her information brokering network against the Council, she’s not sure if she would have believed them. “How often are you going to end up pulling the you-know-what card during the course of this whole thing?” she asks.

“I’m not going to abuse my position, if that’s what you’re asking,” Liara replies. “I don’t want to blow my cover.”

“You’re no fun at all, T’Soni.” The playful teasing leaves Shepard’s mouth automatically, and the spiral of anxiety that has previously consumed her is momentarily forgotten. They return to her in full force, however, once she spots Dr. Michel entering the waiting room from one of the halls.

“She might have news on Kaidan,” Shepard says as a means of excusing herself to Liara. Leaving her coffee cup behind, she walks over to meet Dr. Michel, her heart beating a mile a minute.

She forces her way through the small talk, waiting for the right moment to ask if she can see Kaidan. Dr. Michel is the one to bring up the subject first when she asks Shepard the inevitable question of “I assume you’re here about Major Alenko?”

“How is he doing?” Shepard asks, forcing her voice into steadiness in an attempt to hide how she has spent the last several hours worrying about him.

“The head trauma was severe, but we reduced the swelling quickly,” Dr. Michel explains. “These types of injury can go either way. He hasn’t regained consciousness yet, but his vitals are strong, so I’m optimistic.” The slight cadence of her accent adds a certain amount of comfort to her words. Something that doctors and soldiers have in common: they both have to sound encouraging even in the grimmest of times.

And then, Shepard hears the words that she has been waiting for: “You can go see him if you like. He’s just down the hall.”

Shepard barely remembers giving her thanks and farewell to Dr. Michel before walking down the hall. The short journey to Kaidan’s hospital room takes an age. She’s not sure if she should feel relief that his chances of survival seem high or dread that she will be seeing him so incapacitated.

She goes into the hospital room after receiving permission from the attending nurse to enter. The steady sound of beeps on the heart monitor sets her into unease as she realizes that the machines hooked up to Kaidan’s body may very well be sustaining his life right now. He looks so vulnerable lying there on the hospital bed. Dark red and purple bruises across his face show the external extent of his injuries, and that’s not even taking into account the internal trauma that Dr. Michel has mentioned. This is also the first time since their reunion that Shepard has really had a chance to look upon Kaidan without helmets and armor in the way. Disregarding his visible injuries, she is shocked to see how much he seems to have aged since she had seen him last year. Traces of gray hair now pepper his temples-- _and he’s only a few years older than I am_ , Shepard realizes. She wonders how long it will take before she starts showing physical signs of aging beyond deepening laugh lines. Considering the levels of stress that she now faces, it may not be long.

“Kaidan?” she says, a little hesitant in her uncertainty of whether her voice will be able to reach him. “Oh God, it’s hard seeing you like this.” She takes a deep breath, trying to dispel the feeling that she’s an utter fool for talking to an unconscious man. “Don’t know if you can hear me, but since you can’t tell me to get the hell out either, I’m going to take my chances.” A weak sort of laugh leaves her lips.

She hesitates again, wondering what else she should say. In the end, she decides on a plea, half order and half request, suitable for a commander addressing her subordinate. “Don’t die, Kaidan. You’ve got to fight. We need you in this. Seeing you in action again… It reminded me that you’re a hell of a soldier. The Alliance could sure use you. _I_ could use you.” Her last words come out in a bare whisper, the closest that she is going to get to admitting how she feels about him.

She turns to the nurse in the room, who is looking at a datapad--probably one of Kaidan’s medical charts. “If you need anything, doc, let me know,” she says, letting the vulnerable emotion drop out of her voice in favor of strict professionalism.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies.

She turns back to Kaidan. “Come on, Kaidan. Fight,” she urges him, watching the quiet rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. She swallows hard, fighting against her urge to lose control of herself. “And that’s an order,” she continues on, stepping back into the position of commanding officer before leaving the room.

Her hands shake as she passes through the doorway, but she keeps her head held high and continues on.


	3. Chapter 3

If Shepard had her way, the Normandy would have stay docked at the Citadel during Kaidan’s recovery so that she didn’t have to worry about being light years away from him during the critical stages of his recuperation. There’s a galaxy out there that needs saving, though, and so after sorting everything out with the Council, she’s back out in space. She’s sure that’s what Kaidan would want her to do.

During her next visit to the Citadel several days later, she expects that he will be well enough for her to talk to him. When she arrives at Huerta Memorial, however, she is met only by Dr. Michel’s apology of “I’m sorry, Commander, but Major Alenko has been undergoing tests all day and is not permitted to have visitors at the moment.” Shepard pushes back her feelings of disappointment with a tight-lipped smile and thanks Dr. Michel, even though she kind of wants to put her fist through the wall with frustration and anger, all the while cursing herself for not having the foresight to check with the hospital regarding Kaidan’s status ahead of time.

She has other ways to relieve stress that don’t involve punching holes in unsuspecting walls, though, especially when Vega invites her for a friendly drink at Purgatory. It has been months since Shepard has had a good drink, and she has never been one to turn down alcohol. With everything that has been going on lately, this may be the exact kind of distraction that she needs.

“Hey, Commander,” he greets her once she finds him at the bar. “Surprised you’re taking me up on this offer, honestly.”

“What, you think I’m too busy to have a drink with one of my lieutenants?” She sits down at the barstool next to him. “Protip: I am always up for a drink.”

“Good to know. Whatcha drinking?” He flags over a nearby bartender to take her order.

“Whiskey on the rocks.” Kaidan’s drink. She figures she might as well drink to him tonight. Maybe she should pick him up a bottle of whiskey at some point as a gift to him when he’s out of the hospital.

“Damn. Was almost expecting you to be a fruity drink type, Lola.”

His nickname for her grates slightly, but she’s too good of a sport to tell him off for it. “Come on, James,” she replies, figuring she should be more casual in addressing him as well. “Do I really look like the fruity drink type?”

“Hey, you never know. Some people can surprise you.” He takes a swig of his drink that he had already started before her arrival.

“Uh-huh. And what are you drinking?”

“Tequila sour.”

“Seems kind of fruity, doesn’t it?” she teases, nodding to the maraschino cherry adorning his drink. She accepts her own drink with a quick word of thanks, smirking at the brief look of embarrassment that comes across James’s face.

He recovers quickly, however. “Man, you’re lucky that I’d feel bad about sassing you back,” he says with a laugh.

Shepard drinks from her glass. She’s not exactly a whiskey expert, but the taste is more than satisfying. “So what have you been up to?” she inquires. If she can get him to talk first, perhaps they’ll never reach the topic of how she’s feeling.

“Been busy with the weapons in the shuttle bay. You know your turian friend, the guy we picked up on Menae? Recalibrated all the rifles in the armory when I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Yeah, he tends to do that.” Shepard laughs. At least Garrus is still Garrus even when the fate of the entire galaxy is at stake. “You’re sounding like there’s a problem.”

“He messed them up,” James says in stubborn response, taking a drink.

“I’d reconsider that assessment. I’ll be the first to admit that Garrus has a calibrations problem, but the problem isn’t in the calibrations themselves. You’ll be noticing that extra point-two percent accuracy out in the field.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what he said,” grumbles James. “Just tell him to give me a heads up next time.”

They both take a drink. “You know,” he says, “if I went back to a year ago and told my buddies that I’d be having drinks with Commander Shepard on the Citadel, I don’t think they’d believe me.”

“What, there’s something unbelievable about this situation? You’re part of my crew, James. And sometimes crew needs to unwind together.”

“Yeah, but you’re, you know, a legend.” He drinks, finishing off his glass. “But you know what would make things even better? Telling people that I beat Commander Shepard in a drinking contest.”

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Shepard raises her eyebrows at him as she finishes her drink as well. “Because you may not know this, but I’m pretty good at holding my liquor.”

“Hey, I’m not underestimating you,” says James. “I was just thinking it would be a nice challenge.”

“All right, Vega, you’re on.” She gestures for the bartender to pour them each a shot. “Standard rules. You drink, I drink. First one to give up loses.”

“You’re goin’ down, Lola.” He takes his shot and downs it easily.

They stay evenly matched throughout the first six drinks. Not wanting to accumulate too much of a bar tab, Shepard decides that she needs to employ some dirtier tactics in order to finish this.

“All right, you’ve impressed me,” she says. “Now what do you say we kick it up a notch?” She nods to the bartender. “Give us your strongest.”

“Looks like I’ve awakened your competitive side.” James laughs. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were good at throwing them back.”

“And I’m even being cautious, believe it or not. Used to be a biotic, so I didn’t have to worry about hangovers. Nowadays I have to be a little more careful.”

“Wait, ‘used to’ be a biotic?” inquires James. “I mean, I’m no expert or anything, but isn’t that something you usually don’t stop being?”

“Well, usually you don’t die and have your body reconstructed,” Shepard explains. “Apparently Cerberus ran out of time because of the Collector threat, and recreating my biotic potential was a risky procedure in the first place. Now are we going to keep talking, or are you going to drink?” She rapidly issues him a challenge so that she won’t have to hear his condolences of her no longer being the same soldier that she was born as.

James takes the shot glass and downs its contents, unsuspecting of their strength. The liquid that he has consumed promptly leaves his mouth once more in a comically large spit that sprays alcohol all over the floor beside him.

“Holy fuck, are you trying to kill me?” he demands in indignance. “What the hell was that?”

“That’s for me to know and you to… not know.” Shepard has had enough to drink that whatever clever response that she has intended to give falls flat.

“It was ryncol,” the bartender says dryly.

“Shit, Lola, you were definitely trying to kill me.” James points an accusatory finger at her. “But don’t think you can get away with playing dirty. You still have to drink too.”

“You’re underestimating me again.” With no trace of apprehension, Shepard does the shot of ryncol. Her throat screams in protest at the burn of the liquid, but she forces it down. She wipes her mouth triumphantly once she has swallowed. “Looks like you’ve lost.”

“Damn. Maybe I should be calling you Loca instead of Lola.” James’s eyes widen slightly in amazement. “Where’d you get the stomach for ryncol? It’s not because you have, like, cybernetic parts or something, is it?”

“Nah. It was part of my hazing back in N-School--some of the guys dared me to do a shot of ryncol. And since I managed to get it down and make them realize that they shouldn’t mess with me, I decided it would be a useful skill to have.”

“Remind me never to try to match you in drinking again.” The admiration in James’s response is unmistakable. “Well, good thing that ended when it did. I gotta get back to the ship soon anyway. You coming with?”

“No, I think I’ll stay here a little while longer.” It’s probably not the healthiest option, but all the alcohol that Shepard has drunk has made her let go of at least some of her stress.

“Okay,” says James. “See you later, Commander.”

He leaves the bar after paying for his share of the drinks. He is a little wobbly when he stands, but otherwise he’s functioning well for having drunk six shots of alcohol in quick succession. Once he has left, the momentary relief that Shepard feels quickly fades away. With no one to take her mind off her worries, thoughts of Kaidan resurface in her mind. She’s not as deeply worried about him as she had been at first--the prognosis for his recovery is good, after all. She’s now more concerned about how things will stand between them when she is able to speak to him again. Can she hope that his injuries will have knocked some sense into him and make him realize what really matters, or will his distrustful attitude toward her persist?

She gestures for another drink. “Not more ryncol?” the bartender asks.

“Just get me another whiskey on the rocks,” she replies.

She thinks back to the one proper date that she and Kaidan had gone on before the first Normandy was destroyed. They’d been on shore leave here at the Citadel, and he’d convinced her to get dressed up and have dinner at a fancy restaurant with him. That was when she’d found out that his favorite drink was whiskey (and Canadian lager, but that’s hard to come by away from Earth). It was also when he first told her that he loved her as they took a leisurely walk through the Presidium afterward. All of that seems so far away now, she thinks morosely as she drinks her beverage faster than she probably should. Back then, neither of them would have imagined things turning out this way, with death and distrust and distance driving them apart.

As her mind dwells on Kaidan, she loses track of how much she drinks, which in hindsight is her first mistake of the night. About an hour later, she has entered the stage where everything is a little too fuzzy for her liking. She can safely say that all of her stress has vanished, but it has been replaced by a sense of general unawareness of herself. It’s as if the alcohol has stripped Commander Shepard away and left behind the shell of a person who really enjoys whiskey.

When she becomes aware of herself again, she discovers that at some point she has left her barstool to lie down somewhere. She opens her eyes and blinks at the red cushions of the couch on which she now lies. Tilting her head upward to get a better look at her surroundings, she sees the face of Aria T’Loak frowning in disapproval at her.

“Good, you’re lucid again,” says Aria. “Get up. You lying here is bad for business.”

Shepard tries to shift position to sit up, but her body rebels and she promptly falls back onto the couch with a groan. Her stomach flip-flops in further protest of her attempt at movement, but thankfully she doesn’t vomit.

Aria makes a “tch” sound in irritation, rolling her eyes. “Go back to your ship, Shepard. You’re wasted.”

“‘Mfiiine.” Oh God, she’s slurring. She’s definitely further gone than she has anticipated. She tries to sit up again and once more is met with little success. Her lips set themselves into a thin line of determination as she leans most of her weight onto her right arm to pull herself up into a seated position. “See? ‘M not that bad.”

“Call someone to come get you,” says Aria. “I’m sure as hell not going to watch you struggle your way out of here on your own. Do you have someone you can call?”

Shepard considers the question. Who on the ship would she trust to escort her back to the Normandy at a time like this? And more importantly, who does she trust to not tell the whole crew that she drank herself into a stupor? It has to be someone who she has known for a while and has already seen some of her lowest points. Joker? No, he’d complain about snapped bones the whole way back while struggling to support her weight. Liara? No, she’s the Shadow Broker now, and “becomes utterly incapacitated after too much whiskey” is sure to end up in Shepard’s personal file if Liara finds out about this. Garrus? Well, he’ll probably make fun of her for it, but she also knows that he’ll uphold a promise to not tell the rest of the crew what happens. They’re too close of friends for him to go against his word like that.

“Garrus,” she says in firm decision. “Let’s call Garrus.”

“Well, shit, Shepard, you’re a big girl. You don’t need my help to do it.” Aria rolls her eyes again.

Shepard activates her comm, sending a call through to Garrus’s private channel. “What do you need, Shepard?” he asks once the comm link has been established.

“Heeeey, Garrus.” She tries to keep her voice sounding sober, but even she can tell that she is unsuccessful. Her vowels are drawn out too long, and she stumbles over the r’s in the middle of Garrus’s name.

There is a pause on the other end of the line. “... Shepard, are you drunk?” Garrus inquires, all at once amused and judgmental in a concerned brother kind of way.

“Nooooo,” she insists.

“Yes,” Aria corrects her, her voice loud enough for Shepard’s comm to pick up.

“Is that Aria? Where are you?”

“Purgatory. Need help moving. Take me back to the Normandy?” Shepard decides it’s better to relay everything with as few words as possible to avoid further slurring.

She hears his quiet sigh on the other end of the comm connection. “All right. Stay where you are. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Aria, will you keep an eye on her?”

“Sure thing, Vakarian.”

“I’ll be there soon, Shepard. Garrus out.”

Shepard mumbles something in response that is supposed to resemble “Roger that” before disconnecting from her comm. She sinks back down to lie on her side. The room spins around her as she does so.

“Drink this,” Aria says, handing her a glass of water. Shepard props herself up so that she can take a drink without spilling on herself. “And goddess help you if you throw up anywhere near me.”

“‘M not gonna throw up.” Or, more accurately, she’s not going to throw up right _now_ , but it would take too many words to convey that sentiment. She takes another sip of water. Some of the liquid dribbles out of her mouth.

“You're lucky tonight has been a slow night for business,” Aria says. "I don't think this situation is good for either of our reputations.”

Shepard wipes her mouth, forced to accept that she will partially miss her mouth with every sip of water that she takes. “Don't usually get this drunk,” she says, afraid that Aria may start to get the wrong idea about her drinking habits based upon this single occasion.

“Happens to all of us,” Aria assures her. “You should be glad that you're here instead of goddess knows where. I've seen my share of really sad drunks on Omega, and trust me, you don't even come close.”

After she has finished the glass of water that Aria has given her, Shepard curls up on the couch. She is dimly aware of everything going on around her, but the grogginess of alcohol-induced exhaustion soon overcomes her, making her unsure of whether everything happening around her is real or not. Eventually, she recognizes the dual tones of Garrus’s voice that bring her back to reality.

“How are you feeling, Shepard?” he asks, his question a combination of concern, amusement, and smugness.

“Not great,” she admits, figuring that she may as well be honest.

“Can you get up?”

Shepard pulls herself into a sitting position. She tries to stand, but the room promptly spins around her, forcing her to sit down once more. The annoyed frown that crosses her lips at her inability to stand up without assistance speaks louder than any words can.

“Come on.” Garrus offers an arm to her for support. She takes hold of it, clinging to him when dizziness inevitably overtakes her. She moves forward with a hesitant step. The ground doesn’t seem altogether stable underneath her.

“Thanks for making sure she didn’t wander off,” Garrus says to Aria.

“No problem, Vakarian. Although from the looks of it, I doubt she would have made it very far anyway.”

“I’m right here, you know,” says Shepard. She may be a little physically incapacitated at the moment, but that doesn’t mean that she has lost her sense of what people are saying around her.

“Hope your hangover isn’t too bad in the morning,” Aria replies as a means of farewell to her. Shepard only gives an annoyed grumble in response.

“Let’s go, Shepard.” Garrus moves her arm for her, draping it across the back of his armor so she can lean against him for full support.

Together they take slow steps out of the bar. Ordinarily Shepard would be concerned about others seeing her, a highly recognizable figure, in such a state, but her alcohol-addled mind does not care. It’s not hard to imagine the headline if one of those dreadful tabloid journalists catches sight of her, though: “Galactic Hero Commander Shepard Gets Overly Intoxicated at Citadel Bar.”

“You’re my best friend, you know that, Garrus?” Shepard slurs as they step out onto the Citadel streets.

“Yeah, well, now you can’t say that I owe you any favors.” He laughs briefly. “And because I know you’re going to say something if I don’t say this: you’re my best friend too, et cetera, et cetera.”

“No, seriously. You really are the best.” Shepard clings more tightly to him to keep herself steady while they walk.

“You’re also very drunk,” Garrus points out. “I hope you won’t be offended when I say that I didn’t think you were capable of getting so… _incapacitated_.”

Shepard mumbles something that is supposed to resemble the words “emotionally compromised.” She is thankful that Garrus doesn’t ask her to elaborate on this, although perhaps he can’t understand what she’s saying and doesn’t want to embarrass her by asking her to repeat herself.

The journey back to the Normandy passes by in a strange sort of haze. Shepard is relieved to see that the CIC is fairly deserted when they enter the ship, giving them a straight path to the elevator without interruption. When they stand in the elevator during the ascent to Shepard’s cabin, however, the sound of EDI’s voice indicates that she has taken note of Shepard’s intoxicated presence.

“You do not seem well, Shepard. Do you require any assistance?”

“She’s fine,” Garrus says to EDI in immediate reassurance. “I’m just making sure she gets to bed.”

“Very well. Please do not hesitate to alert me if you need any further aid.”

“You’re the best, EDI.” Shepard leans against the wall of the elevator to maintain her balance. She doesn’t really like the idea of sleep right now, but lying down certainly seems like a good idea.

“I appreciate you too, Shepard.” EDI’s voice has a distinct note of amusement in it. “Rest well.”

They have reached Shepard’s cabin by this time. Garrus guides her inside and sits her down on her bed. He bends down to start taking her boots off for her, but she lazily swats his hands away.

“I can do it myself,” she insists. Her fingers work uselessly against the fastenings. Unable to pull off the boots without first loosening them from her feet, she flops backward onto the bed with a sigh of frustration. “They’re not cooperating,” she complains.

“I don’t think it’s your boots that are the problem.” Shepard can practically hear the “I told you so” in Garrus’s voice as he unfastens her boots and removes them. “Lie on your side. You’re not going to throw up, are you?”

She shakes her head, obediently shifting so that she lies on her side, her head resting against the softness of her pillows. Now that she is lying down in a comfortable position, her drunken exhaustion hits her in full force once again.

“So,” he continues, sitting on the end of the bed. “Are you going to tell me why you got so drunk in the first place, or will that have to wait until you’ve sobered up?”

“Stressed,” she replies sleepily. Her bleary eyes blink several times to focus on Garrus and the concerned expression on his face.

“Yeah, but there are better ways to relieve stress,” he points out. “You should’ve told me. I would have set up some target practice for us.”

“All I wanted to do was talk to Kaidan,” she says. “Not really too much to ask for. But noooo, all I get is ‘undergoing tests’ and ‘can’t have visitors right now.’” It’s hard for her to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She scowls in discontent.

“Ah.” Garrus’s response is no more than that single sound, but it tells Shepard more than proper words ever could. He is one of the few who knows the extent of the turmoil that she has gone through with Kaidan, being the one who had tried his best to comfort her after the disastrous reunion on Horizon. Out of everyone on the ship, Garrus likely best understands why Kaidan being in the hospital has been a major stressor in Shepard’s life lately.

“I really still love him, you know.”

Shepard’s confession becomes muffled into her pillow as she turns her head away from Garrus. She doesn’t want to look at him as she admits aloud what has become increasingly clear to her recently.

“You’re not thinking straight right now,” Garrus reminds her.

“‘S not me being drunk.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, a surge of anger rushes through her at Garrus’s dismissal of her feelings. As if her being in love is something that shouldn’t happen when she’s sober.

“I know.” He almost sounds apologetic, a sentiment that his next words reinforce. “Sorry. Bad idea for me to say something like that.”

“‘S okay.” Shepard turns back to face him. Her eyelids are too heavy to keep her eyes open. Sleep nudges at the edges of her consciousness, ready to bring her momentary relief until the inevitable hangover sets in a few hours from now.

“Sleep all of this off,” Garrus says. “I’ll stay here for a while to make sure nothing happens. And next time, maybe talk to me or anyone else before you drink your weight in alcohol. I’m never one to turn down a drink, but if you get drunk every time you’re stressed… well, things aren’t going to end well.”

“Mmkay,” Shepard murmurs. If he says anything after this, she doesn’t hear it. She curls her legs up close to her and lets dazed slumber take over her, and thoughts of Kaidan remain impossible for her to avoid as she drifts off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The next time that Shepard goes to Huerta Memorial, it is because of Kaidan’s direct invitation. She therefore doesn’t have to fear his unavailability when she goes to visit him, but that doesn’t eliminate her usual hesitation when it comes to interacting with him. It doesn’t help that the email that he has sent her as an invitation to see him contains the completely unexpected development of Councilor Udina offering him a position as a Spectre. Kaidan remains unsure as to whether he’s going to take the position, but Shepard immediately feels a surge of pride on his behalf. If anyone deserves the honor of being the second human Spectre, it would be someone humble and hardworking like him. For all of Shepard’s good intentions and accomplishments, the Council regards her as something of a loose cannon, and “loose cannon” is far from the first phrase she’d use to describe Kaidan.

Conversation with him in his hospital room goes a lot better than Shepard expects, especially taking into account the lingering uncertainty and distrust between them on Mars. His hesitant inquiry of whether things are still good between them isn’t exactly the apology that she’s looking for, but it at least confirms that he wants to move things forward between them, no matter what direction that may be. Or maybe it’s because she has brought him a bottle of whiskey and he sees it as some kind of peace offering. Whatever the reason, she’s relieved that he has moved beyond accusing her for her work with Cerberus.

They talk business for a while: his promotion to Major, his recovery, his determination to return to active duty. Shepard has forgotten how nice it is to hear him talk, especially when his words don’t contain phrases like “betrayed the Alliance,” “Cerberus is the enemy,” and “you’ve changed.” It takes her back to the days on the original Normandy when routine status checks and debriefings would turn into long conversations about his personal background.

“Where’s your family?” she asks him, hesitantly moving their discussion away from business. She doesn’t know much about Kaidan’s family other than his father’s history as an Alliance soldier, but with the war tearing apart more families across the galaxy with every passing moment, it’s something that she has to ask about. “Are they safe?”

“My family…” Kaidan sighs, a faraway look of worry and despair in his eyes. “My parents live in Vancouver.” Shepard’s heart immediately drops when she hears this. As if his words aren’t enough, his voice also carries the reluctant acceptance that he should fear the worst about them. “Dad’s family owns an orchard in the BC interior. They were headed there on a shuttle the day of the attack.”

“Have you heard from them?” Shepard inquires.

“No. Not yet.” He lets out a brief exhale, shifting position on his bed in a restless movement. “But I hope… I’m hoping Dad’s Alliance training has kept them safe. Must be killing them, not knowing where I am.”

Shepard makes a murmur of understanding. She thinks about everyone who she cares about in the galaxy, friends and comrades whom she has not heard from since the war began. She suspects that her concern about them is only a fraction of Kaidan’s fears for his parents’ safety.

“Enough about me, though,” Kaidan says. “We’ve been talking about me this whole time. What’s been happening with you?”

“You sure you need to ask me that?” she replies. “All you need to know about what I’ve been up to you can find out from watching the vids or going on the extranet.” Of course, the media reports will leave out some of the more personal details, like how she’d gotten herself drunk out of worry for him and that nightmares have been plaguing her sleep more and more often lately.

“Yeah, sure, but anyone can look at the newsfeeds and read things like ‘Commander Shepard Aids in Successful Evacuation of Grissom Academy’ or ‘Commander Shepard Begins Negotiations for Cure of Krogan Genophage,’” Kaidan points out. “Not saying those aren’t great accomplishments, of course. Because they are. It’s just that not many people have the chance to have personal conversations with you in the flesh like this.”

“So what do you propose we talk about?” Shepard leans forward in her chair a little, her hands braced against her legs. She’s not sure what she can say to him that doesn’t stray too far into the territory of “I care about you more than a commander should care about her old subordinates.”

“How’s your crew?” he asks. “Pick up anyone interesting?”

“Well, you know we picked up Liara on Mars. Garrus is back, too. He didn’t need much convincing to decide to join up again. And I’ve got Wrex onboard as well, but he’s mainly helping with genophage cure stuff. There’s some people from the Collector mission who are helping me out too. Not Cerberus,” she adds before Kaidan objects. “Just those who wanted to help eliminate a threat. There’s this salarian doctor, Mordin, who’s engineering the genophage cure. He’s…” She struggles to think of how to describe Mordin and his eccentricities. “... quite the character.”

“Sounds like it’s just like old times,” Kaidan says with a slight laugh.

“Yeah.” She doesn’t say the thought that immediately comes to her mind: that it won’t be exactly like old times if he isn’t there. “So?” she says instead. “Anything else you wanted to talk about?”

“Well…” Kaidan hesitates before continuing on. “There was something that I wanted to ask you. Hope it won’t end up being too intrusive or anything.” Briefly, Shepard’s heart jumps in anticipation of a further conversation of what exists between them, but when he speaks again this hope dies away as quickly as it has come. “When we, uh… When we were on Mars, I noticed that you weren’t using your biotics. I mean, I’m sure it’s none of my business, but, you know, I kind of notice things like that. I’m sure it’s nothing for me to be concerned about, since you fight with a lot more than just your biotics, but…” He trails off rather weakly. “Sorry. Probably weird for me to ask about something like that.”

“No, it’s not weird,” she assures him. “It’s just… I guess you wouldn’t know. I don’t have my biotic capabilities anymore.”

She watches his face change, his polite curiosity shifting to a mixture of shock and pity. “I--oh my God. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you.”

“It hasn’t been that bad, really. I’ve gotten used to it.” Unlike with Kaidan, her biotics had been a mere footnote in her life. She’d been something of a late bloomer with her abilities, and so her potential hadn’t even been discovered until after the Alliance had rescued her from Mindoir. At seventeen she’d been unceremoniously fitted with a completely harmless L3 implant, followed by general biotics training starting a year later upon her enlistment. She hasn’t had her entire life shaped by her biotic abilities, and so although some things about their absence have taken time to get used to, namely physiological changes such as a slowed metabolic rate, she has been able to adjust well enough.

“What happened?” Kaidan asked. “I’m guessing it has to do with you, you know, dying. Did Cerberus--”

He breaks off there. Shepard has hoped that they would avoid this aspect of the conversation. Even though Kaidan is less suspicious of her now, he will inevitably jump to blaming Cerberus for her lost biotic capabilities the minute she confirms to him that those abilities had indeed been lost during her reconstruction.

“Cerberus had every intention of bringing me back exactly how I was,” she replies. “Biotics and all. But my reconstruction was complicated enough as it was, and they knew it would be a risk to re-expose me to enough eezo to recreate my biotic potential without the possibility of brain damage. And with them running out of time because of the Collector threat, they decided that it would be better for them not to run the risks. So I guess that’s one thing that has changed about me.”

“You said that you were the same person as before.” Kaidan’s response is quiet, toeing the line between accusation and observation. “How can you say that when Cerberus has taken away part of who you are? How can you--” He sighs, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just putting too much of my own feelings into this.”

“Kaidan…” His name hangs in the air with no initial followup. Shepard hates how their conversation has brought them back to this place, with him blaming Cerberus for changing her regardless of what kind of change that is. He has insisted that everything is good between them, and yet after the smallest mention of Cerberus he immediately implies his lingering doubts about her. “Listen, I need you to give me an honest answer about this, because it’s the only way we’re going to be able to move forward. Are we going to be able to get past what what happened on Horizon?”

An uncertain moment passes between the two of them. Kaidan shifts position, sitting up as far as he can without putting too much strain on his recovering body. “I’d like to, Shepard,” he replies finally. “As friends, as… more than friends. I mean, I don’t know. I just like having you in my life.”

His words bring her a certain amount of consolation, along with a small bubble of hope when he mentions the possibility of “more than friends.” As nice as words are, however, they are not enough for her. Anyone can state their intentions to make things better, but she needs action to back up his words.

“So,” she says. “How do we fix it?” She is particularly conscious to say “we,” since forgiveness is something that goes both ways. It’s going to take both their efforts for them to recover even a small part of what once existed between them.

“Maybe you should just know that I’m not seeing anyone, and… and I still care.” The last part of his statement hesitates as it leaves his mouth. For all of Kaidan’s self-control, Shepard can read him like a book, and she knows that his admission of his lingering feelings is genuine. The confirmation that he has not given up on her yet is perhaps all she needs as confirmation that they will fix things between them, no matter which direction their stalled relationship takes.

“Kaidan…” she begins, unable to figure out the right words to say. Her admission of her own feelings hovers on her lips, but something inside her refuses to give voice to them. She’s afraid that the minute she tells him how she feels, something else will come up that makes the shaky foundation of forgiveness tumble down.

“Hey, look.” Kaidan’s voice becomes noticeably softer. “There’s a war on, and--and maybe you and me will never happen, but… I needed you to know that. Because that’s how we’ll get past Horizon.”

“Yeah.” Shepard breathes in, exhales out. “Yeah. You’re right. We’ll just have to see where things take us.”

“I… yeah.” Kaidan nods. “I want you to know, though… I really am sorry. For what I said. For everything.” He reaches out to touch her hand. She flips her hand over and lets their fingers clasp together for the briefest of moments before letting go.

“Yeah,” she replies. “Me too.”

A small smile breaks through Kaidan’s expression, turning the corners of his mouth upward. “I’m glad.”

Shepard wants to leave things there on the high note of forgiveness, but one last thought lingers on her mind. “One more thing,” she says. “I know I probably shouldn’t ask this, let bygones be bygones and all that, but you said that you weren’t seeing anyone right now. So I guess that means in that email you sent me, when you said you went out to have drinks with a doctor, that nothing really happened with… her? Him?”

“Her,” Kaidan clarifies. Much to Shepard’s relief, he gives a brief chuckle. “Yeah, that was, uh… kind of a disaster, to be honest. I should’ve never agreed to it, but I told myself that I needed a way to move on. But the whole time all I could think of was you and how maybe I wasn’t ready to start seeing other people. She was a nice woman and everything, so I felt awful about it, but… I ended up giving her the slip.”

“Oh, no.” Shepard makes a small noise of sympathy. She wishes that she’d known this detail several months ago. It would have saved her a lot of needless worrying about the possibility of him moving on from her.

“Yeah. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and never came back. Not, uh, not one of my prouder moments.” He sighs. “Sometimes I think about finding a way to contact her and apologize for it. At least try to explain my actions to her. But it’s probably too late for something like that.”

“I’m, um… I’m glad that you’re not seeing anyone right now, though.” Realizing that she may be too forward with her feelings, Shepard quickly backtracks into professionalism. “I mean, because there’s a war happening, like you just said. Don’t want you to have any kind of distractions.”

“Only the right kind of distraction, right, Commander?”

Shepard can’t determine whether his response was intended as flirtatious or not. He has slipped back into calling her “Commander,” though, not “Shepard,” which indicates a certain degree of seriousness in his reply.

“Yeah,” she says, trying not to sound too flustered in response to his words. “Something like that.”

He smiles again. She has missed seeing him smile, even though he has more lines around his mouth these days. They make him look older and wiser, somehow, although she supposes that in many ways he is older and wiser in comparison to her.

“I should probably get going,” she continues on. Even though her primary reason for coming to the Citadel is visiting him, she has other duties that she has to take care of here. At the very least, she wants to pick up some requisitions at the Spectre Office.

Kaidan makes a murmur of agreement. “Thanks for coming by.”

Shepard stands up from her chair. “Take care, Kaidan,” she says as a neutral means of farewell to him.

“You too, Shepard,” he replies, and those are the last words she hears from him before she leaves the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Shepard dreams in the literal. She doesn’t have to think about the hidden meanings of her dreams because they don’t often represent anything deeper than her reliving events from her life that leave her awake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. Therefore, when she starts dreaming about a young boy running through a forest, she doesn’t know what to do with these images. At the surface, the meaning is simple enough--the boy is the symbol of her guilt regarding those whom she could not save during the fall of Earth. Why her guilt is manifesting itself as the boy, of all people, is a mystery, and the image of the forest is equally puzzling.

She wakes with a start, her heart pounding in her chest from the jolt of pulling herself out of the dream upon hearing the whisper of Ashley’s voice telling her that she made the right choice to let her die on Virmire. Shepard takes slow, deep breaths to calm herself until her heart stops racing. She wipes away the sweat beading at her forehead and rolls over to check the time. The clock reads 0418. A little over two hours have passed since she went to sleep, and yet now she feels more awake than ever.

She moves to sit up, her bare feet swinging over the side of the bed to rest on the floor. Her hands brace themselves against her knees as she continues to focus on keeping her breathing steady. It was only a dream, she tells herself firmly. Except she can’t really use that rationalization: although the boy in the forest is mostly fiction, the sacrifice of Ashley Williams isn’t. She is long gone, like many others before her, and nothing can ever change that.

She gets up to pour herself a glass of water from the water filter that she keeps in her cabin. Everything around her is quiet; the only sound is the low hum of her aquarium’s filter. The floor is cold against her feet, and she shivers as goosebumps rise up on her arms.

“EDI, can you turn up the heat in my cabin?” she asks.

“Of course.” Always quick in her responses, EDI’s manipulation of the temperature controls soon fills the room with comfortable warmth. “This is not a normal hour for you to be awake, Shepard. Are you all right?”

“Everything’s fine,” Shepard replies, hoping that EDI will not be able to sense her lie.

“Very well. Good night, Shepard.”

Shepard only gives a brief murmur of acknowledgment in response. She retrieves her favorite N7 mug and fills it with water, her hands shaking a little more than she would like as she does so. She settles down in her desk chair, sipping the cool water as she continues to force herself to relax. A deep exhale leaves her mouth as she sets down the mug and stares at the blank screen of her private terminal.

It’s in these quiet moments when her dreams, no matter how literal or metaphorical they are, keep her awake that small pangs of loneliness nag at that empty spot of vulnerability deep within her. Most of the people on the ship are asleep right now, and they wouldn’t want to listen to how the great Commander Shepard has bad dreams keeping her up at night. The only person who she might consider telling is light years away, and even then she’s not sure if her and Kaidan’s relationship has mended enough for her to start sharing her insecurities with him once more.

She turns on her desk lamp, shedding its dim light on the surrounding area. The reflection of her face, its tired features barely visible against the dark screen, looks back at her before she turns the monitor on. Even if Kaidan is far away from her, it doesn’t mean that she can’t let him know that she’s thinking about him and wishing that he was here in the cabin with her tonight. She doesn’t know what time it is on the Citadel and whether she should expect a quick response from him, but the mere act of sending him an email is enough for her. She starts up her email program, fingers hovering at the keyboard as she ponders what to write to him.

_Kaidan-_

_Just thought I’d check in and see how you’re doing since it’s been a while since I’ve been able to go to the Citadel. We’ll probably be headed there in a few days after I finish up the current mission. It’ll only be a basic supply run, but we’ll be there long enough for me to stop by if you want._

_It’s late here right now. Can’t sleep. I’ve been having a lot of nightmares lately. Kind of sucks, but I’m dealing with it._

She starts to type out _I wish you were here with me_ but promptly deletes it. Even if they’re on much better terms right now, she doesn’t dare imply how much she needs him, not while they’re in the stage of uncertainty regarding the continuation of their relationship. She instead ends her message on a far more neutral note.

_Anyway, I hope I have a chance to see you soon. Just get back on your feet soon enough for us to have that whiskey together sometime, all right?_

_\- Shepard_

After she has sent the message, she settles back in her desk chair, drinking the last of her water. She had hoped that everything that she has done since being jolted awake would have calmed her enough to make her ready to go back to sleep, but now she is more wide awake than ever. She tries not to think about how few hours are left until she has to begin her day. The amount of time that she sleeps is already far from allowing her to be well-rested. It’s a good thing that she knows how to operate on very little sleep.

She gets up to use the bathroom. When she’s washing her hands afterward, she looks at the reflection of herself in the mirror, a slight frown set across her lips. Her hair is getting longer than she likes, with the dark red strands closer to her shoulders than to her chin. She makes a mental note to trim it whenever she has time. She’d do it right now while she’s awake with nothing else to do, but she doesn’t quite trust her late-night haircutting skills even though it’s something she has usually done herself ever since she chopped off her once long hair half a lifetime ago.

She returns to her terminal and finds that a new message has already come in from Kaidan. Whatever time it is on the Citadel must be a convenient enough time for him to respond quickly. Shepard pulls up the message, pleased to see that he has had the time to write a lengthy reply to her.

_Hey Shepard,_

_Glad to hear you’ll be stopping by soon. I’m getting bored out of my mind with nothing to do but wait around until the docs clear me for release. But apparently I’m improving a lot. They’re now letting me get up out of bed every now and then, even though I’m not allowed to go far. It’s good to be back up on my feet, at any rate._

_There’s not much else to report. Udina keeps bugging me to give him an answer about the Spectre thing. I know that you’re going to tell me to go for it no matter what, but I still haven’t made my mind up yet. Maybe once I’m out of here and have a better sense of what’s next. I’d like to come back to the Normandy, but… I don’t know. I’m not sure if the Council will want the only two human Spectres on the same ship. I’ll definitely let you know when I make my decision either way._

_Sorry to hear about the nightmares. Can I ask what they’re about, or is that too personal? Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that. Sorry._

_I’d tell you to go to sleep, but I don’t think you’ll listen. Just try to stay well-rested. But if you want to talk some more, I’m here, I guess._

_\- Kaidan_

The response is so Kaidan that it hurts: the uncertainty, the repeated apologies, the realization that she’s not going to heed his clear worry about her. Her desire to have him by her side increases, with his body as a comforting warmth beside her as she leans against him. Words are the only comfort she can receive right now, though, and so she drafts up another message, doing away with the personal address at the beginning.

_I’m sure you’ll make the right choice about whether to accept Spectre status. But I wouldn’t be surprised if the Council would want to keep you under their tight control if you accept. I mean, look what happened with me. I bet the Council sometimes wishes that they kept me on a shorter leash after everything that’s happened. I guess you have a more stable and reliable history, though._

_Can’t even begin to explain the nightmares. Usually my nightmares are pure flashbacks, but these are different. I heard Ash’s voice in them tonight. It was pretty rough. Hard to believe that it’ll soon be three years since she died. I guess I wasn’t really around for two of those years, but still._

_You don’t have to apologize for asking me personal things, by the way. I want us to be able to talk freely about what’s on our minds. Because I trust you, and I hope you trust me._

_I don’t think I’ll be going back to sleep tonight. I’d ask Chakwas for some stims in the morning, but she’ll probably give me a relaxant or sleeping pills instead. I’ll have too much going on to think about being tired, anyway. I’ll be fine._

_\- Shepard_

She yawns, rubbing a hand across her eyes. If her physical exhaustion is going to persist like this, it’s going to be a very long day indeed. Those sleeping pills are starting to sound like a good idea. If nothing else, they’ll give her brain an opportunity to shut itself down for long enough to get some rest. She casts a discontented look at the stack of datapads that she’d stopped working through a few hours ago before deciding to go to bed. She can’t afford to sleep when she has so much work to do. With the entire fate of the galaxy at stake, she doesn’t want to miss something crucial while she’s asleep. A full night’s sleep is a long time, after all. The entire tide of the war could turn over the course of eight hours.

She fills her mug with water again, wishing that she didn’t have to go down to the crew deck to make coffee. If late nights like these are going to become routine, she should probably invest in her own personal coffee maker. Or employ EDI’s mobile platform to go to the crew deck to make her coffee in the middle of the night, but she’s not sure whether EDI will agree to something like that. Not if Joker has anything to say about it.

As she drinks her water, she stares at her inbox, waiting for the sign of a new message to appear. When the “1 New Message” indicator pops up, she nearly tips over her mug in her eagerness to read Kaidan’s response, like an excited schoolgirl. If it were possible to say “Commander Shepard” and “excited schoolgirl” in one breath, that is.

_Of course I trust you, Shepard. I mean, I can’t say that I always have, but I’ve already admitted that I was wrong about that. But you’re absolutely right in that we should be able to speak freely with each other. That’s what I’ve always appreciated about you, how easy you are to talk to. No matter how things end up, I hope we can always be honest with each other._

_I know exactly how you feel about the nightmares. Survivor’s guilt is a hell of a thing, isn’t it? But I guess you already know that. I want to tell you that it’ll be all right, but I know things aren’t exactly that easy. If only they were._

_I’m not going to comment on the not sleeping thing. But if you don’t think you’re ready to go back to sleep, we should talk about something less serious. Help your mind relax a bit. Like bedtime stories, except for hardened soldiers instead of children._

_Great, now you’re going to ask me to tell you an actual bedtime story, aren’t you? Should’ve kept my mouth shut._

_\- Kaidan_

Shepard laughs aloud at the last part of Kaidan’s message. The sudden sound elicits a squeak and rustling from the hamster cage behind her. “Sorry, little guy,” she whispers in apology.

She’s not sure if Kaidan has meant to cheer her up with his response, but his intention of making her mind relax has been successful. She takes another drink of water before writing out her reply.

_You made me laugh so hard that I scared my hamster. I hope you’re happy. (I have a hamster in my cabin now, by the way. And fish. What can I say, I’ve missed having pets. My family had a lot of animals when I was a kid, and military life doesn’t exactly lend itself well to having pets.)_

_But you telling me to relax, that’s kind of a new one. I guess all bets are off when it comes to normal behavior now that the Reapers are invading. You’re right, though. I need better ways to take my mind off what’s happening. Ways that don’t involve shooting things. Although I don’t think the crew would think twice if they saw me setting up target practice in the middle of the night. Don’t worry, I’m not going to actually do that. Even though it’s kind of sounding like a good idea right now._

_This has been the most rambling email I’ve ever sent. Maybe late-night, non-serious email isn’t my calling._

_\- Shepard_

She sends the message, trying to put her finger on the precise reason why she has struggled more with writing this email in comparison to the other messages that she has sent to Kaidan in the past half-hour. She realizes that this is the first time in a very long while that she’s had something resembling casual conversation with him. Every other time that she has talked to him since Cerberus brought her back to life, their conversations have had a specific purpose, whether it’s strictly business or trying to figure out where things stand between them. With the relationship between them remaining undefined, she’s not even sure she knows how to have casual conversation with him anymore. She doesn’t want to act as if they’re close again while he remains uncertain as to whether something closer than friendship should develop between them. The quietly hopeful part of her, however, reminds her that him taking the time to respond to her late-night emails indicates that he must feel _something_ for her.

His reply comes back much faster than she expects.

_You’re definitely rambling, Shepard. Go back to sleep._

_\- K_

She responds with an equally brief message.

_No._

_\- S_

Her childish stubbornness initially wins out, but as they continue back and forth with inane conversation, her mental exhaustion finally catches up with her physical exhaustion. By the time another half-hour has passed, she finds herself dozing off in front of her terminal--and by the time she drifts off to sleep, her head resting on her desk, she dreams not about death and guilt, but rather the warmth of Kaidan’s arms surrounding her.


	6. Chapter 6

The night that Shepard spends awake emailing Kaidan to distract her from her nightmares and worries becomes far from an isolated occurrence. Dreams that wake her up in the middle of the night become the norm rather than the exception in the following days, and it’s always that same damn young boy that haunts her subconscious thoughts. The dreams aren’t the only thing keeping her awake at odd hours of the night, however. The late nights not spent convincing herself that she shouldn’t be so scared of nightmares pass with her knee-deep in the tedium of administrative duties that she doesn’t have time to attend to during the day. It’s during times like these that she misses Miranda and her almost superhuman efficiency in dealing with paperwork.

Thus she enters the kitchen one morning with less than two hours of sleep under her belt, ready to make herself a cup of coffee before declaring herself on duty. The words from the jargon-filled reports that Mordin has sent her on the progress of the genophage cure echo in her head. At least the cure will be ready to be implemented within the next few days, which will speed things along with negotiations as long as she can still get the krogan on her side.

“Good morning, Commander,” comes the sound of Dr. Chakwas’s voice from behind her as she adds cream to her coffee.

“Mor--morning, doc.” A large yawn punctuates Shepard’s greeting. She turns to face Chakwas, holding her mug of coffee in her hand. Steam rises from its contents, and so she waits to let it cool before taking a drink.

“Long night?” Chakwas inquires.

“Yeah.” Shepard sighs. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t been getting much sleep all week.”

“Ah.” Chakwas makes a small murmur of understanding. “Have you been overworked, or is it something else?”

Shepard has known Chakwas for long enough that she knows when the doctor can see straight through her attempts to cover up what has been troubling her. “A lot of stuff,” she says in a deliberately vague response, unspecific enough that she doesn’t feel guilty for telling the slight lie of omission. She glances around the kitchen to make sure that no one is within hearing distance before continuing on. “Listen, um…” She lowers her voice as an additional guarantee for not being overheard. “Would you be able to get me some sleeping pills? I don’t really anticipate myself getting a full night’s sleep for a while, but it would be nice to have an easy way to get to sleep if necessary.”

“Of course,” Chakwas replies. “I’ll get them from the medbay next time Dr. Solus isn’t busy. But I do feel a certain obligation to ask whether everything’s okay with you.”

“I’m…” Shepard is about to say that she’s fine, but lying about her health rarely leads to positive results. “I’ve been having a lot of nightmares lately. More than usual. I’ve been having trouble getting to sleep, too. Probably why I’ve had no problem staying up late working on paperwork.”

“A common reaction to increased stress.” Chakwas nods knowingly. “Considering your psychological history, I’m not surprised that your stress is manifesting itself in more frequent nightmares. Have you had any other reactions lately?”

“No,” says Shepard. “Got a nasty rash on my leg last week, but that was chafing from my armor, I think, not stress. My underarmor’s probably starting to wear out.”

“Have you had any recent panic attacks?”

Shepard shakes her head. “No.” Nightmares startling her awake is no picnic, of course, but those emotional reactions are nowhere near the level of a full-blown panic attack. It has been over half a year since she has last had one, and she’d like to keep it that way.

“You’re still well-stocked in your medications, I presume?” Chakwas inquires.

“Yeah, I should be good for a while. I’ll let you know when I need to refill.”

The sound of footsteps indicates that someone is passing through the kitchen--one of the minor crew who Shepard feels awful for not remembering the name of. He stops and salutes Shepard when he walks by, and she nods to him in acknowledgment as a silent way to permit him to carry on. She hopes that he has not overheard too much of her conversation with Chakwas. One of the things that she prides herself on is her ability to hold herself together in front of her crew, and having people hear her talking about her nightmares and stress will do nothing to help boost morale in these difficult times.

“Well, as your doctor I highly recommend ensuring that you get a full night’s sleep whenever possible,” Chakwas says. “With the amount of work that you’ve been putting in lately, I daresay you’ve earned a little rest now and then.”

The way that Chakwas says “earned” brings back memories that Shepard doesn’t want to recall: the encouragement of _You have to earn the strength to survive_ that she’d heard on Akuze moments before she’d become the sole survivor of that terrible mission. She forces this memory out of her mind, balling it up and stomping down hard on it.

“Did I say something wrong?” asks Chakwas, reading Shepard’s sudden unease.

“No,” she lies. “It’s fine.”

“Shepard.” She recognizes the reproving tone in Chakwas’s voice. It’s the same tone her parents would use when they knew that Shepard was lying. The only difference is that she wasn’t known as Shepard back in the days of her childhood on Mindoir.

“Just… thinking about things,” Shepard murmurs in response, hoping that Chakwas won’t press her further on the matter. She takes a hesitant sip from her coffee mug now that its contents have cooled somewhat.

At first, she suspects that Chakwas is going to make continued attempts to pull a fully honest answer out of her, but the words don't come. Instead, she says, “Well, I should let you go. I’m sure you have a lot of work to do. I’ll let you know when I can get those sleeping pills for you.”

“Thanks, doc.” With a brief word of farewell to Chakwas, Shepard leaves the kitchen, heading up to the CIC to start attending to her duties.

She stops at the galaxy map to check her private terminal. “Morning, Traynor,” she says to the comm specialist working next to her.

“Good morning, Commander.” Traynor’s greeting is awfully enthusiastic for the early hour of the morning, but at least it isn’t as bad as Kelly’s constant chirpiness had been. “You have new messages at your private terminal.”

“Already on it.” Shepard scrolls through the new emails that have come in for her over the course of the night. The standard fare of words of appreciation, minor requests for aid, and spam that has made its way through the filters awaits her. Each time that she checks her email brings her the inevitable moment of wondering whether Kaidan has sent her something, and this time she is not disappointed. She selects the message to open its contents.

_Hey Shepard-_

_Remember how I said that the Council wanted to do some kind of huge ceremony to commemorate my induction as a Spectre? They’ve been debating for ages when will be the best time to have the ceremony to “promote the highest increase in morale” or something like that. If it were up to me, I’d tell them to have it at a time when you were here, but I don’t have much of a say in it. All I have to do is show up in dress blues when they tell me to. Still hard to adjust to being a Spectre, though. It’s like everywhere I go I have an invisible sign on my forehead that says “Second Human Spectre.” Guess it’s giving me a taste of what it’s like to be you. I’m not sure if I like it. No offense to you, of course. You’re just better at handling attention than I am._

_I’m kind of in limbo as to what I’m going to do next. I haven’t gotten around to asking the Council whether I’d be allowed to join the Normandy’s crew since you said there’s a place for me. And I can’t exactly go back to my biotics division students on Earth. I’ve been in touch with Hackett, though. He says he might be able to get me a position working on the Crucible, but nothing’s for certain yet. Which leaves me with a lot of downtime to worry about… stuff._

_Let me know next time you’re on the Citadel. I’ve got some temporary living quarters that aren’t too shabby, and I’d love to have you stop by. Stay safe out there, Commander._

_\- Kaidan_

As much as Shepard wants to respond to this message straightaway, it falls too far outside the realm of business correspondence for her to answer in good conscience while on duty. Instead, she responds to her other, more pressing emails and saves Kaidan’s message to reply to later during the small amount break time that she has. She continues to think about the message as she leaves her private terminal, however. Underlying the casual report that he has given her about what has happened following his release from the hospital is a clear concern about her that he doesn’t state outright. The vagueness in his statement regarding his worries about “stuff” spells out that detail obviously enough: “stuff” might as well mean “a certain commander on board the Normandy” in this context.

Her next destination is the bridge to check in with Joker. “Hey, Commander,” he says to her in greeting when she approaches. “Damn. I can smell that coffee from here.”

“Got to wake myself up somehow.” She takes a drink. “What’s our status?”

“Still flying,” he replies. “Really all I care about at this point. As long as we’re in one piece and don’t have the Reaper fleets on our ass, everything’s a-okay in my book. Oh, right,” he adds, “EDI told me to tell you that she wants to talk to you. She’s down in the AI core.”

“Can’t she talk to me from here?” Shepard asks.

“That’s what I said. She said something about ‘it is necessary for this conversation to occur privately’ or something like that.” When quoting EDI’s words, Joker does a poor imitation of her voice. “I knew I shouldn’t have taught her about the importance of privacy.”

“I heard that, Jeff.” The sound of EDI’s voice on the intercom echoes throughout the bridge.

In response, Joker teasingly raises a middle finger in the direction of the intercom’s speaker. “I saw that as well,” EDI says.

“Are you two having a fight or something?” Shepard’s first instinct is to say “lovers’ quarrel” instead of “fight,” but she doesn’t want to add more fuel to the fire.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it,” says Joker, rolling his eyes. “See ya, Commander.”

“Keep us flying, Joker.”

In accordance to Joker’s request, Shepard goes down to the AI core to speak to EDI. She supposes this conversation could wait until after she has checked in with some of the other crew, but she fears that she may forget if she doesn’t do it right away.

“So Joker said you wanted to talk to me?” she asks once she had found EDI.

“Yes. I have some inquiries about human behavior that I do not wish to discuss in front of Jeff, in that they involve what you would call our ‘courtship.’”

“Ah. He’s still clueless?” Shepard inquires.

“His body language indicates signs of interest, but he has not yet spoken of his affections. I have been employing the strategy of ‘dropping hints,’ but he remains unresponsive. I have been calculating the possible results of taking more direct action, although I have not yet tried any methods that would lead to such results. But I also have an inquiry about his behavior that I hope you can answer for me. I was not met with positive results when I posed the question to Jeff.”

“And you’re asking me this because…?” As much as she likes EDI, Shepard can’t help but think that giving dating advice to AIs isn’t part of her job description.

“You are the one who would be the most approachable in these matters, considering your experience with relationships,” EDI replies. “My question is why the viewing of pornographic materials is necessary when one has a potential attraction to someone. Are thoughts of said person not enough to create the sense of arousal necessary for self-pleasure?”

“Oh, _God_.” Of course EDI’s inquiries are going to take a turn into uncomfortable territory. “Listen, EDI, I understand that you’re, uh, _curious_ about a lot of things, but some things you just don’t ask about.” She’s never going to rid herself of the image of Joker watching porn now. It’s almost as bad as the time that he had accidentally sent audio from a porn vid to the bridge’s speakers instead of his earpiece. “I mean,” she continues on, upon seeing the slight shift to disappointment in EDI’s features, “I guess if I _were_ to answer that for you, I’d say that, um, sometimes you can watch something pornographic while thinking about a person you’re attracted to. And some people need more than fantasies to, you know, get themselves off. So… draw your own conclusions from that.”

“I understand.” EDI clasps her hands behind her back, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. It’s astonishing how quickly she has picked up on human mannerisms since obtaining a body. “Human habits of masturbation are intriguing to me, since is an activity that I cannot participate in myself. Upon scanning your extranet browsing history, I have found very little evidence of pornographic videos or other erotic material. Does this mean that you rely primarily on sexual fantasies during your own acts of self-pleasuring?”

Shepard is starting to wish that she never entered into this conversation. “You know the whole privacy thing that Joker has been teaching you about?” she says, pushing aside her embarrassment. “This is one of those things that you shouldn’t ask people. Social boundaries and everything.”

“I apologize,” EDI replies. “However, if your fantasies have involved past sexual partners, I do not blame you. Although I am not programmed to feel sexual attraction toward the human body, my analysis confirms that Major Alenko is considered conventionally attractive to those who desire men for romantic and sexual activity. Combined with the fact that recently you have been showing signs of what can be classified as ‘sexual frustration’ after your interactions with him--”

Shepard hates her very well-hidden predisposition of turning bright red when faced with severe embarrassment. “EDI?” she says, cutting her off using the the authoritative tones of what most people call her “Commander Who Takes No Bullshit” voice.

“Yes, Shepard?”

“I think anything else you need to know you can find on the extranet. You don’t need to bring my sex life into it.” Or lack thereof, she adds mentally, considering it has been almost three years since she has last slept with someone.

“Understood. I will let you return to your duties. I will alert you if any further developments occur.”

“Just give Joker some time,” Shepard says. “Sometimes even the most clueless catch on eventually. And I kind of suspect that he’s not exactly completely clueless, either.”

“I will have to continue to monitor his reactions carefully, then. Goodbye, Shepard.”

Shepard leaves EDI’s company, going into the currently empty starboard observation lounge where she can place a call through on her comm in relative privacy. “Hey, Joker,” she says once she has his attention on the other end of the comm connection. “Stop watching porn when EDI’s around. She’s getting jealous.”

“Uh, newsflash, Commander, it’s impossible to do anything without her noticing,” he replies. “She’s always watching. Can’t have five seconds of time to myself without her popping in on me. I think she’s actually getting worse as time goes on.”

“Have you tried turning surveillance off?” Shepard suggests. She sits down in the chair in the corner of the room, relieved to be off her feet for a few seconds. Once again, she marvels at how much she has to deal with that isn’t part of her job description.

“Can’t do that. If I turn her surveillance off in the cockpit, I’ll be flying blind.” Shepard hears the quiet sound of Joker’s sigh through the comm’s speaker. “Besides, what does EDI care about what I do with my free time, anyway? She’s been really nosy about everything. More than usual.”

“Think about it _really_ hard, Joker.” Shepard can’t believe how clueless he’s being, especially because he has expressed his clear interest toward EDI in the past. “Anyway, new rule: no more porn in the cockpit. And I can’t believe I have to make that rule,” she adds in an undertone.

“Aye-aye, Commander,” Joker says in a defeated voice. “But, uh, you’ll keep putting in a good word for me with EDI, right?”

“Yeah, sure. But I can’t play matchmaker for you two forever. I’m a soldier, not a love expert.”

“I know.” There is a brief pause of hesitation on Joker’s end of the call. “Thanks, though.”

“No problem,” Shepard replies. “I’ll talk to you later. Shepard out.”

She disconnects from the call after hearing Joker’s words of farewell. With everything that she has to get done before the morning is over, she should return to checking on her crew. Now that she has sat down and made herself comfortable, though, she decides to relax for a few more minutes. She thinks about what she has told Joker about not being a love expert. That’s definitely an accurate way of putting things, considering she barely knows what to do to move her and Kaidan’s relationship out of the “maybe something will happen in the future, but not right now” phase. Her obligation to sort out everyone else’s problems while having no idea about how to handle her own issues seems to be a never-ending dilemma in her life.

She looks out at the wide expanse of stars visible through the lounge’s observation window, and her thoughts inevitably turn to Kaidan. She likely won’t be able to follow up on his invitation to visit him on the Citadel until after the genophage cure gets sorted out, and she hates the idea of having to wait that long. Her email conversations with him are a comfort, of course, but they pale in comparison to being able to speak to him face-to-face. Perhaps she has become too reliant on him as an emotional anchor ever since he came back into her life. During these difficult times, however, she needs all the support she can get, no matter whether the source is a friend or an old lover.

Her comm buzzes, and she takes the call. “Shepard,” comes the terse yet excitable tones of Mordin’s voice. “Hoping not to interrupt. Critical breakthrough made on cure. Need to discuss options with you. Will be in medbay when you are ready.”

“Roger that, Mordin,” Shepard replies. “I’ll be there in a couple minutes.” Mordin’s recent reports to her have indicated that the creation of the genophage cure is rapidly reaching its completion, but she hasn’t expected important breakthroughs to happen so soon. Perhaps they will be on Tuchanka earlier than she has anticipated.

She leaves the lounge, and her reflective thoughts soon disappear in favor of moving forward with her duties--because right now, moving forward is all that she can do.


	7. Chapter 7

The scorching winds of Tuchanka whip against Shepard’s armor as she stands in front of the Shroud. _This is a dream,_ she tells herself firmly. _This already happened. You can’t change what happened in reality, but you can give the dream a happy ending_. The long-ago recommended tactic of reasoning with her dreams, however, doesn’t work, and so Shepard has no choice but to experience the same events again.

“ _Mordin, this whole thing is coming apart_ ,” she insists as the salarian fiddles with his omni-tool. “ _There’s got to be another way!_ ”

“ _Remote bypass impossible. STG countermeasures in place. No time to adjust cure for temperature variance_.” Mordin hesitates, looking up at the partially destroyed Shroud. “ _No. No other option. Not coming back. Suggest you get clear. Explosion likely to be… problematic_.”

“ _Mordin, no!_ ” Shepard pleads as he turns to walk toward the elevator.

“ _Shepard, please. Need to do this. My project, my work, my cure. My responsibility_.” He closes his eyes and smiles. “ _Would have liked to run tests on the seashells,_ ” he admits as an afterthought, the only indicator of regret for his actions.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” says Shepard.

“ _I’m not_.” Mordin almost sounds pleased. “ _Had to be me_.” He presses a button on the elevator’s console to activate it. Shepard barely hears his next words. “ _Someone else might have gotten it wrong_.”

She wants the dream to end there before it forces her to remember what happens next. She wants Mordin to come back down from the top of the Shroud after dispersing the cure, rather than having to see the explosion that reduces the tower to rubble, taking Mordin’s life with it. Instead, the images in front of her shift to a different nightmare. Mordin rapidly morphs into a human man with armor worn through by thresher maw acid and a deep forehead wound dripping with blood. Shepard smells the stench of death on Akuze, the terrible scent that has stayed with her even nine years later.

“ _Commander, we need to get to the landing zone_ ,” Shepard is saying. The words come from a version of herself that she feels strangely detached from, the young soldier who retains a touch of innocence in her eyes.

“ _I’m not going anywhere, Lieutenant,_ ” replies the man, her superior officer on this mission. Although history has forgotten the name of Lieutenant Commander Elijah Ryan as the man who gave his life to take down the thresher maw that had slaughtered all but one of his unit, Shepard will never forget his sacrifice.

“ _What do you mean?_ ” asks Shepard.

“ _That thing killed my men and women. I’m not leaving it alive._ ” Ryan speaks with hardened resolve to convince her of his words.

“ _That’s suicide!_ ” she insists. “ _I can carry you back with me._ ” He shouldn’t be the one to do this. She’s younger, less experienced, has less to lose. As much as she values her own life, it’s more disposable in the end.

“ _You have a better chance of making it back on your own. I would just slow you down._ ” With a sharp gasp of pain, Ryan reaches around to produce his grenade launcher from his weapons loadout. “ _I’ll be able to distract it long enough for you to make it to the landing zone_.”

 _This is a dream_ , Shepard reminds herself. _You can wake up at any time. You’re in control._ Her relief comes not from her own rationalization, however, but a sound outside of the dream, quietly slipping into her slumber to pull her out of the nightmare.

“Commander Shepard,” EDI says over the intercom. “We are approaching the Citadel. Our estimated time of arrival will be in fifteen minutes. Do you read me, Shepard?”

Shepard opens her eyes, disoriented. She’s curled up on the couch in her cabin where she has been working. She doesn’t even remember lying down. She has barely slept since leaving Tuchanka several days earlier, and so she supposes that this is her body’s way of fending off her extreme exhaustion.

“Roger that, EDI,” she replies once she has sat up and regained her bearings. She rubs her eyes, squinting at the bright overhead lights of her cabin. Her heart pounds in her chest, and she quickly pushes aside her overwhelming anxiety that lingers from the dream. “I’ll be down in five.”

The state of affairs at the Citadel, however, turns out to be even more of a nightmare, except this time Shepard can’t wake herself up from it. Before the Normandy even docks, she receives the news that Cerberus troops are attempting to take over the station, and so she has no choice but to suit up in her armor and prepare herself for combat. The situation quickly deteriorates from bad to worse when she hears that Councilor Udina is staging a coup and witnesses the arrival of a Cerberus assassin, Kai Leng, to take out the salarian councilor. Thane is there to fend off his advances with astonishing grace despite the severity of his Kepral’s Syndrome, but the carefully measured choreography of his combat falls short when the assassin’s blade pierces through him. Shepard barely has the time to call an ambulance for him before rushing out in pursuit of Kai Leng.

And then, when the chase leaves her running on foot through the Presidium, Shepard finds herself in an increasingly more terrifying nightmare: a standoff between her squad and Udina, with the one thing between them being Kaidan and the barrel of his gun.

“Shepard, what’s going on?” he demands. He lowers his gun slightly, the shock of _what are you doing pointing your gun at Udina_ clear in his eyes.

“Shepard’s blocking our escape,” Udina answers for him. “She’s with Cerberus!”

His accusations stab under Shepard’s skin, needling her with the automatic anger that comes from the distrust of others. She wants to tell Udina off herself, throwing his claim back at him by revealing what the salarian councilor has told her, but Kaidan speaks before she can.

“Just hang on,” he says, ever the negotiator. “I got this. Everyone calm down.” He raises his gun at Shepard and her squad once more--a warning, not a threat.

“I can explain this, Kaidan,” she begins. Maybe she can reason with him. They haven’t spent all this time trying to rebuild their relationship only to have it all come tumbling down in this single moment.

He takes a few steps forward, his gun drawn. “Come on, Shepard,” he warns. “Gun drawn on a councilor…” He shakes his head. His brow furrows in a combination of anger and concern. “Kind of looks bad.”

From beside her, Garrus makes a quiet noise of irritation. He keeps his gun trained on Kaidan, his eyes narrowed behind his visor. Shepard, however, lowers her gun, silently signaling for Garrus and Liara to do the same.

“We don’t have time to negotiate,” she says. “You’ve been fooled, all of you.” She watches Kaidan’s expression as she reveals the truth, but his face remains impassive. “Udina’s behind this attack. Councilor Esheel confirmed it.”

The other councilors exchange glances. Udina, however, merely scoffs at her accusations. “Please. You have no proof. You never do.”

Shepard’s anger rises up further at his words. She’s used to having her claims to the Council met with raised eyebrows (and the various alien equivalents of that gesture), but to have her statement so casually disregarded by the very man that she accuses tempts her to shoot him on the spot, no questions asked.

“There are Cerberus soldiers in that elevator shaft behind us.” She gestures back to the sealed elevator door that blocks Kaidan and the Council’s escape. “If you open the door, they’ll kill you all.”

A quiet moment passes. Shepard can almost taste the tension in the air. “What Shepard says is possible,” Councilor Irissa admits, addressing Udina. “Unlikely, but possible.”

“We don’t have time to debate this.” Udina turns and walks toward the console with the elevator controls. We’re dead if we stay out here. I’m overriding the lock.”

Shepard stares at Kaidan, waiting for him to back down. She takes a few steps forward, her footsteps only threatening enough to convey to him that she’s serious. If only her eyes could engage in full conversation with him, because she tries hard to convey her thoughts to him through her gaze: _Listen to me, Kaidan. I would never lie to you. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t think I’d be able to even if I had to_.

Whatever hints of her desperation reach him, they work. “I better not regret this,” he says, lowering his gun.

“You won’t,” she assures him, relief washing through her and lifting the tension that she has unknowingly been holding in her body.

Kaidan turns away from her, pointing his gun at Udina. “Udina, step away from the console,” he orders.

“To hell with this,” Udina snarls. His fingers work against the keyboard. Shepard glances back at the elevator door to see the light on it shifting as the unlocking cycle begins. Irissa walks up to Udina, speaking to him in quiet words inaudible from where Shepard stands. Udina promptly shoves her to the ground with no hesitation. He pulls out a previously concealed gun, pointing it at the asari councilor.

“He’s got a gun!” Kaidan yells.

Shepard doesn’t hesitate. She lifts her gun, lines up the shot, and pulls the trigger before Kaidan can even think about shooting. It isn’t a warning shot, but rather one that pierces Udina straight through the chest. Blood splatters across the ground of the Presidium as he slumps forward, and Shepard has no regrets.

And just like that, after Commander Bailey arrives on the scene and confirms that the Cerberus troops have retreated, the coup is over.

“Are you all right?” Liara asks Shepard once everything calms down a little. They’re leaving the embassies after discussing the situation with Bailey and making sure that everything is arranged with the Council. Shepard has recently finished relaying a comm call to the Normandy that everything is taken care of, but she’s going to have to take a little more time to sort things out before returning to the ship.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Shepard’s reply isn’t entirely truthful, but there’s no succinct way for her to convey how her mind is rushing in a thousand different directions now. Her primary concerns are focused upon Thane, who according to Bailey is being treated at Huerta Memorial, and Kaidan, who she has not seen since they went their separate ways after leaving the site of the standoff.

“You’re lying, aren’t you?” Liara reprimands her gently. She touches a soft hand to Shepard’s arm.

“This one of your information broker tricks?” Shepard inquires, deflecting Liara’s question with half-teasing words. “Knowing when someone is lying?”

“No. Not exactly. It’s just that I have known you for a long time, Shepard, and I know you’re a terrible liar when it comes to your feelings.”

Shepard laughs weakly. “Yeah. Maybe I am. But sometimes it’s easier to lie than to let others know what’s on my mind. Need to keep crew morale up, and all of that.”

“You should go see Thane if that’s what’s worrying you,” suggests Liara, seeing directly into the heart of her concerns. “You’ve taken care of everything here. If anything else comes up, Garrus and I will cover for you.”

“I don’t even know if he’s still alive,” Shepard admits. “Bailey said he heard there are complications. Thane already didn’t have much time left as it is. I don’t want…” She trails off there, unable to articulate her fears of losing one of her old crew, especially when Mordin’s death remains a raw ache deep in her chest. Why did something like this have to happen so soon after that, especially in the immediate aftermath of her subconscious revisiting the moments of comrades sacrificing their lives for her?

“If he ends up not surviving, you will regret not being able to say goodbye,” Liara points out. “You should go to the hospital. I know the possibility of losing him hurts, but you need to have the closure either way.”

Shepard takes in a breath and lets the exhale blow out slowly from between her lips. “Yeah. You’re right. If any one asks, tell them that’s where I am. And if you see Kaidan, let him know that I’m looking for him.”

Liara nods. “I wish you well, Shepard.”

When Shepard arrives at Huerta Memorial, however, her fears are not far from meeting their confirmation. The combination of Thane’s pre-existing complications from Kepral’s Syndrome combined with a lack of drell blood for transfusions leaves the doctors with few options beyond making him comfortable. Therefore, Shepard ends up at Thane’s bedside with his son Kolyat during his final moments, with their quiet conversation and prayers sending him off to his believed afterlife across the sea. All things considered, it’s the best way for him to go, even if Shepard hates having to lose another friend to self-sacrifice.

After Thane’s peaceful passing, Shepard takes the time that she needs to pull herself together before returning to the Normandy’s docking bay. Her intentions are to board the ship and give a full report to the rest of the crew, but one last piece of unfinished business awaits her in the corridor leading to Docking Bay D24.

“Kaidan,” she says in greeting, keeping her tone friendly and not “we just had our guns pointed at each other a couple of hours ago.” “Hey, I wondered where you went. What’s up?”

He stands with his arms crossed in an unreadable posture. “I’m trying wrap my head around what just happened,” he replies, the largely neutral tones of his response belying deeper emotion.

“You sound angry,” Shepard notes.

“I’m not angry.” He gives a quiet sigh, uncrossing his arms. “Just not every day you have an armed standoff with someone you care about.” Shepard’s heart jumps slightly at the words “care about,” despite the seriousness of the conversation. “How it all went down, it’s got me… I don’t know.” He paces small, restless paths in front of her. His confusion and concern show through as plain as day to her.

“Okay, talk to me,” she says. “Let’s have it.”

“If I hadn’t backed down first…” Kaidan hesitates uncertainly around these words, unsure of how to proceed with this hypothetical exploration of events. “I feel like you would have taken me out.”

“I trusted you,” Shepard assures him, not even wanting to think about that moment when, if her feelings hadn’t told her otherwise, she very well may have had to use her gun against him as much more than a warning. “I knew you’d come around. That’s all that matters. Main thing is we stopped the coup and Cerberus is off the Citadel.”

“But sometimes the way a thing goes down _does_ matter, Shepard. Later, when you have to live with yourself. Knowing that you acted with integrity… In that case, it matters.”

If she didn’t know better, she would think that he’s scolding her. For the first time, she fully realizes that despite treating each other like equals in the majority of circumstances, he outranks her. In a different circumstances, she may have been under his command instead of the other way around.

“You’re talking about Udina,” she replies. Having to explain her actions to him is a strange sort of throwback to all of the times when she’s had to rationalize her sometimes irrational behavior to her superiors. Shooting Udina wasn’t an irrational course of action in her mind, though. She’d perceived a threat and dealt with it. Nothing more.

“He gave me no choice, so I took the shot,” she adds in further explanation. “Any soldier would have done the same. Including you.” She doesn’t tell him that the real reason she’d taken the shot was to protect Kaidan from having to carry out the same action. Even though Kaidan has been through a lot in his time as a soldier, Shepard knows that he wouldn’t have been able to brush off shooting Udina so easily.

“Okay.” Kaidan’s response is deceptively simple. The one word carries much more emotion than should be contained within those two syllables: forgiveness, relief, lingering uncertainty. “Look, Shepard,” he continues on, “there’s, uh, another reason I’m here. Hackett offered me a position, but I’d turn it down in a second if there was a chance to join you on the Normandy again.”

“You got the Council’s permission?” Shepard inquires.

“Council’s given me free reign. Especially after everything that has happened, stopping the Reapers is everyone’s priority, Spectres included. And the best place for me to do that would be on the Normandy with you.”

“I couldn’t imagine fighting the Reapers without you,” says Shepard. There’s a lot more that she can’t imagine without him, but now is not the place to bring any of that up.

He gives a small laugh of relief. “Thank you, Commander,” he replies, stepping squarely into the realm of professionalism. He offers a hand to her, which she grips in a firm handshake. Their eyes linger on each other for longer than what would be expected from commander and subordinate. For one wild moment Shepard thinks about kissing him right here in the middle of the docks, throwing all caution to the wind, but the urge passes as quickly as it comes.

“And Shepard,” Kaidan says, a genuine smile on his lips, “I need you to know that I’ll never doubt you again. I’ve got your back.”

“Good to know.” Shepard smiles as well. She never thought she’d be smiling so easily after everything that has happened today. “Welcome aboard, Major.”

He salutes in response. “Aye-aye, ma’am.”

When he turns to walk away, Shepard’s eyes wander, settling on the perfect curve of his ass. Her gaze remains there for far too long than what would be acceptable under the usual expectations of professional behavior. Of course, she has already completely shattered the fraternization regs on prior occasions and, if all goes right, she will more than likely be doing it again in the near future.

“Enjoying the view, Shepard?” The sound of Garrus’s voice from behind her startles her. Thankfully, Kaidan has already disappeared down the end of the corridor.

“Yeah, the Presidium docks are lovely this time of year,” she says in sarcastic response.

“Hmm. If that’s what you’re calling it.” Garrus chuckles.

“Shut up, Vakarian.” Shepard’s good-natured retort carries a hint of laughter in it as well, along with a slight pink tinge upon her cheeks. The brief moment of happiness quickly fades, however, when she remembers everything that has left her mind in her momentary distraction.

“I heard about Thane,” Garrus says, adopting a more serious tone. “I’m sorry. He was a great guy. I respected him a lot.”

“Yeah.” Shepard sighs. “I hate that even though I’ve technically been having victories lately, I’ve had to lose so much in the process.”

“Well, I can’t promise it’ll get better. Never really been one to believe in delivering false hope. But we’ve got the Council’s full support now. It won’t be long until we’re ready to kick the Reapers’ sorry asses back to wherever they came from.”

“I hope you’re right,” Shepard says. Despite her determination to maintain a realistic attitude toward the war, Garrus’s words elicit the smallest spark of optimism within her. She’s preparing herself and the galaxy slowly but surely, and as much as her losses hurt, she should honor their sacrifices. That course of action falls squarely into the category of “easier said than done,” but deep down, she knows it is what Mordin and Thane would want her to do. They’d want her to look toward the future, not at past regrets.

And so for now, that spark of hope is not extinguished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special credit goes to Dexterous_Sinistrous for creating the character of Commander Ryan, although we've both spent a lot of time having a lot of feelings about him and his connection to Shepard. The history between him and Shepard will be explored further in later chapters of this fic, but if you want the full story of what happened on Akuze and more of this Shepard's background, read her fic Promise to the Dead (http://archiveofourown.org/works/1622630). Also special thanks to her for allowing me to "borrow" her Shepard for this fic. ^_^


	8. Chapter 8

Shepard’s workload only increases in the aftermath of the Citadel coup, but she likes having the work as a distraction from her own thoughts. A more dangerous kind of distraction exists in the form of Kaidan being onboard the Normandy, but despite their close proximity no further developments have occurred in their relationship yet. Shepard is fine with leaving things where they are for now, though. Dealing with a relationship on top of the war probably isn’t the best idea--but maybe that line of thought comes from her head’s attempts to rationalize with her heart.

One afternoon, while making the rounds on the crew deck as a means of relaxation after a morning filled with comm calls and mission reports, she finds Kaidan in the starboard observation lounge. He stares out at the wide array of stars spread out through the glass of the observation window. He leans one forearm against the window, his head bent downward in an unmistakable posture of having a lot on his mind.

“Hey,” she greets him. She keeps her voice quiet so that she doesn’t startle him. “Thought you’d be working. Everything all right?”

In response, he gives a sigh, his shoulders moving up and down with the quick breath. “It all seems so calm from here,” he says, dodging her question. “There are people going through hell in a million different ways out there.” He nods to the expanse of stars. “And I want to be fighting alongside them, but... I want to be here too, you know?”

“Yeah, I understand that.” She watches as Kaidan steps away from the window. The arm that had been propped up against the glass falls weakly to his side. His face is wracked with subtle indicators of pain and struggle that Shepard recognizes all too well: the worry lines on his forehead, the slight crease in between his eyebrows, the downward turn of his mouth. “Thinking of anyone specific?” she prompts him.

“I heard from my mom, Shepard.” Kaidan turns his gaze back to the distant stars. “My dad is… He’s MIA.” He takes a breath in and out, steadying himself. “He’s presumed…” The statement remains unfinished, but the unspoken words tell Shepard all that she needs to know.

“Tell me what happened,” she says with all of the gentle concern that she can manage, even though the look on his face breaks her heart. Hearing this news from anyone would fill her with nothing but the deepest sympathy, but having the words come from someone she cares about makes the situation even worse.

“You said they got out of Vancouver,” she adds, remembering what he had told her in the hospital when she’d asked about his family.

“He left Mom at the orchard and reported for active duty,” Kaidan explains. “It’s all we know, but it’s, uh… it’s enough.” He falls silent, continuing to stare out the window. “She’s alone in this now, in all of this.” he continues on, his voice shaking slightly with emotion. It takes Shepard a moment before she realizes that he is referring to his mother.

“I feel for you, Kaidan,” she replies. She’s familiar with the pain of losing family, and she knows how hard it is to admit that a loved one has been presumed dead. “And I’m glad you told me. There’s strength in camaraderie. In empathy.”

“Thanks. You’re right” He gives a quiet breath of relief, turning back to face her. The worry in his expression has eased a little, although his grief continues to lurk below the surface. “I don’t know how you do it, Shepard, keeping it all together like you do. Earth is always at the back of my mind, haunting me.”

In all honesty, Shepard doesn’t know how she keeps herself together either. Especially with the pressure of this war, not a single day passes without her feeling as if she is being stretched to her emotional limits, the thin rope of her mental state fraying a little more with each new thing that goes wrong. Kaidan doesn’t need stories of how she fears that everything is going to come crashing down one day, though. He needs the kind of reassurance that she can give to him as both his commanding officer and… well, whatever else she is to him.

“I get that,” she says. The dreams of the young boy that she failed to save on Earth inevitably enter her mind. “But sometimes you’ve got to remember that those left behind are fighting too. And you have to have the confidence that we’ll pull through this to create a better future, so that those who haven’t been so lucky won’t have died in vain.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Kaidan replies. “And my students… Well, wherever they are, I know they’re kicking ass on Earth or… somewhere.”

“That’s the spirit.” Shepard takes a few steps closer to him, reaching out to touch his arm in a friendly, comforting gesture. “And if your dad’s anything like you are, then wherever he is, he hasn’t gone down without a fight. If the Reapers try to do anything to us or the people that we care about, we’ll just have to kick them back to wherever they came from so we can put an end to this goddamn war.”

“Yeah.” Kaidan nods decisively. “You know, when this war is over, there’s going to be one hell of a reunion party.”

“Hell yeah.” It may be a far-off hope now, but that doesn’t stop Shepard from dreaming about that moment in the future when the end of the war will reunite all of the beings now strewn across the galaxy. Sometimes a dream is all it takes.

“Dancing in the streets, hugging and crying…” Kaidan allows himself a brief smile. “My mom’s always wanted to travel off-planet. I think I’ll take her after all of this is over.”

“Any ideas where you’d go?”

“Somewhere quiet, probably. Although I think she’d love to see the Citadel. And I’d probably want to introduce her to you.”

“Me?” Shepard laughs, even though the implications of his last statement make her wonder what exactly his intentions are. Her hand is still resting on his arm, and he has done nothing to shrug off her touch yet. “Just what are you implying?”

“Nothing at all, Commander,” he replies, swiftly dismissing her inquiry with professionalism. “You’re the galaxy’s hero. I’m sure everyone wants to meet you. Especially after you unite the galaxy to win this.”

“But this is all in the hypothetical,” she reminds him. As much as she wants to remain in the realm of optimism, she cannot ignore the lingering possibility that despite the galaxy’s efforts, the Reaper cycle may continue onward. She lets go of his arm, as if the time for friendly gestures has ended now that they have moved on into the realm of inescapable reality.

“Yeah, sure. I like to keep things realistic too. But sometimes we need a little bit of hope.”

“Definitely,” Shepard agrees. “Guess we’re good at reminding each other of that.”

A quiet moment passes between them. “Well, thanks for coming by,” Kaidan says. “You probably have work that you need to get back to, right?”

“My schedule’s clear for the next couple of hours, believe it or not.” Of course, there is never a time when Shepard is completely free, since there are always minor things for her to attend to, but he doesn’t need to know this. “You’re not up to anything, are you?”

“No. Not right now. What are you, uh, suggesting?” The slight raise of his eyebrows is primarily inquisitive, but hidden deep down is a trace of flirtation.

“If you still have that bottle of whiskey I bought for you when you were in the hospital, I thought we might crack it open. You’ve got a lot on your mind. A drink might be a good idea.”

“Well, Shepard, that certainly sounds tempting.” Kaidan chuckles. “Could definitely use something to take my mind off everything. Only problem is, we starting drinking in here in the lounge, and soon everyone’s going to want to join in.”

“Then we’ll go to my cabin.” The suggestion leaves Shepard’s mouth before she realizes how forward it sounds. “Just for, you know, some privacy. No one’ll come in there without my permission. Um, not that we’ll need privacy,” she backtracks quickly. It’s a good thing she has enough control over herself to prevent the heat of embarrassment from rising to her cheeks. “We just don’t want anyone drinking all your whiskey.”

“You know, you’re kind of endearing when you’re flustered, Commander,” Kaidan teases.

Now Shepard is _definitely_ embarrassed by his observation of her frantic attempts to avoid sounding openly flirtatious with him. “You’d better reconsider those words, Major,” she retorts, although she keeps her tone light. “People might start getting ideas.”

“As if me coming to drink in your cabin isn’t enough of a suggestion.”

“It’s a _friendly drink_ ,” Shepard insists. “Take it or leave it.”

“Let me go get the bottle.” Kaidan steps away from the window, walking past her toward the door. “I’ll meet you up there in a few minutes?”

“Sounds good.” Shepard nods in her approval. _For the love of God, don’t look at his ass_ , she tells herself when he walks away from her. That moment on the Citadel was one thing, but she doesn’t dare to do something like that here on the Normandy, where EDI’s all-seeing eyes may witness it, leading to an accidental mention of it to someone.

She leaves the lounge and takes the elevator up to her cabin. Her largest challenge while she awaits Kaidan’s arrival is not letting herself get her hopes up too high for the result of this encounter. Like she’d insisted to him, this should be nothing more than a friendly drink. She certainly hadn’t intended it to be more than that when she’d proposed the idea to him. Despite her hopes that him being on the Normandy again may lead to them finally rekindling their old relationship, nothing should happen without them talking about everything at length first. That kind of conversation definitely shouldn’t happen when alcohol is involved, even if they likely won’t drink more than a glass of whiskey each.

Shepard surveys the interior of her cabin, imagining it through the eyes of someone who has never seen it before. She has never given much thought as to how much this living space has become her own, filled with small indicators that mark it as inherently hers. Her desk is perpetually covered with datapads, strewn about with such little attention to organization that she is probably the only one who knows where to find what she is looking for. The t-shirt that she’d worn to bed the previous night lies balled up on the otherwise fairly neat bed. Her N7 mug sits on her bedside table, sticky with the remnants of now-cold coffee. She wonders how many of these small details Kaidan will notice when he enters the room for the first time.

She retrieves two glasses, in case he hasn’t brought his own, and sets them down on the table in front of the couch. She barely has time to tidy up the cabin, straightening out the datapads on her desk and throwing the dirty shirt on her bed into the laundry, before he arrives.

“I, uh, hope you don’t mind that I already opened it up a while back,” Kaidan says, holding up the three-quarters-full bottle.

“No problem.” Shepard steps aside to invite him further into the room. “If we drank the whole bottle right now, I’d probably say that I’m not doing my job in keeping my crew in line.”

He looks around the cabin, taking in its interior. “This cabin’s a lot bigger than the one you had on the original Normandy,” he notes. “And wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you had fish.” He nods to the aquarium lining the wall. “I was picturing, you know, a fishbowl on your desk with a couple of goldfish or something.”

“All the species of fish in the galaxy and you’d think I’d go with goldfish? You must think I’m pretty boring.”

“No, uh. You’re actually the opposite of boring.” He stares at the fish swimming in the tank, deliberately avoiding her eyes. Perhaps Shepard is imagining it, but Kaidan’s cheeks are a little more flushed than they had been a second ago.

“I’ve got a bunch of different kinds,” Shepard says. Most people dismiss her aquarium as nothing more than a way to fill up space in her cabin, but now that she has a VI to keep everything in the tank taken care of, she considers her fish as something like a hobby. “There’s an Illium skald fish.” She points to a spined fish swimming past where Kaidan stands. “I call that one Garrus because his spines look kind of like Garrus’s fringe. Technically he’s Garrus the Fourth, but...”

“Should I ask what happened to Garruses one through three?” asks Kaidan.

“They may have been the unfortunate victims of starvation,” she explains, a little sheepish. “It wasn’t my--well, okay, I guess it was kind of my fault. It was hard to remember to feed them when I had so much to do. That’s why I have a VI to do it for me now. Which makes Garrus the Fourth and his friends very happy.”

“Don’t tell me all your other fish have names too.” Kaidan gives a slight chuckle.

“Of course they do. You’re, uh, probably going to laugh at all of them, though.” She touches a finger to the aquarium’s wall, absently tracing a line across the glass. One of her fish follows the path of her finger.

“Try me.”

She turns to look at him. “To give you an idea, both of my jellyfish are named Blasto. Blasto One and Blasto Two”

The sound of his laughter--a genuine laugh from deep within him--warms her in a way that she’d never expect. His eyes sparkle with amusement. “Wow. Uh. Yeah. Sorry, I can’t defend you naming two jellyfish after Blasto. One, maybe. But both of them? Kind of unoriginal.”

“Shut up. No one said I was supposed to be good at naming things.” Shepard nudges him gently, teasingly, but she pulls herself away once she realizes what she is doing. “And just for that, I’m not going to tell you my hamster’s name. And he has a perfectly good name, thank you very much.”

“Right. I forgot you had a hamster too. Suddenly your cabin becomes a zoo while I’m gone.” A quiet moment passes between them before Kaidan clears his throat to break the silence. “So, um. Drinks?”

“I got some glasses for us over there.” She nods to the table in front of the couch. They walk over to sit down, and she watches as he pours the amber-gold liquid from the bottle. He passes one of the glasses to her, his fingers brushing against her hand in an almost imperceptible movement.

“Would you mind if we made a toast to my dad?” Kaidan asks. “I think wherever he is, he’d like to know that we’re thinking about him.”

“Yeah. Of course. Whenever you’re ready.”

Shepard hears his quiet intake of breath as he gathers himself. “To my dad,” he says. “That he’s fighting hard, or gone on to a better place.” He swallows hard. “And that he knows that I’m proud of him for putting his life on the line.”

“And that he knows that he’s raised a brave and caring son,” Shepard adds.

They clink their glasses together and drink. Shepard hasn’t had whiskey since the night that she got drunk at Purgatory, and the taste of it gives her the slightest hint of nausea before she reminds her body that she’s not going to drink an intoxicating amount of alcohol this time.

“Thanks for listening to everything I’ve had to say,” says Kaidan. “I know with this war happening, everyone has their own demons. Things that they worry about. But you--you always listen. I’ve told you things that I’ve never really been able to tell anyone else. Because I know you won’t judge me. You know, think I’m weak or a freak or anything like that.”

“It’s all part of my job,” Shepard replies. “Someone once told me that’s what being a commander means. You listen when you have to and kick ass when you need to.” Those are the words that Commander Ryan had said to her, words that have shaped her own leadership more than anything else. She wonders how hypocritical it is of her that she’s so good at listening to people and encouraging them and yet has so much trouble opening up to others about her own insecurities. After everything Kaidan has told her, he only knows a fraction of what she has been through, even though she knows that he will listen to her stories with as much attention and empathy as she has done with him.

“Good words to live by.” Kaidan takes a drink, surveying her over the top of his glass. “Being back here under your command, it’s… I don’t know. It’s made me realize how lucky I am to have someone like you in my life.”

“As your commanding officer?” she inquires, steering him in a proper professional direction no matter how much she wants to believe that he thinks of her as much more than that.

“Well, yeah, sure.” He shifts in his seat, setting his empty glass on the table. “But as a human being, too. As Shepard. Not just Commander Shepard.”

His hand lays flat against the surface of the table. Shepard wants nothing more than to reach out and take that hand in hers, causing that moment when their eyes meet. She catches his gaze anyway. In his eyes, she sees the entire galaxy.

“Listen, Shepard,” he says. “I--”

The buzz of her comm cuts him off. “Hey, Commander,” comes the sound of Joker’s voice. “I don’t know if engineering has been in touch with you, but they’re having some minor issues down there that you should probably check in on.”

“What kind of issues?” Shepard asks, cursing the timing of Joker’s interruption. She wonders if he realizes how much of an unintentional cockblock he has been to her over the years.

“I don’t know. Didn’t specify. Told them they should have gone straight to you, but I guess they wanted EDI to check it out first before letting you know.”

“Right. I’ll go down and see what’s going on,” she says. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem, Commander. Joker out.”

The comm connection disconnects. “Sorry about that,” she tells Kaidan. Of all the times that there could have been a minor issue on the ship that needs her attention, it has to happen when she and Kaidan are on the brink of a potentially important conversation. “I should, uh. I should probably go.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures her. “You taking care of things on the ship is more important than us having a drink.”

She stands up, finishing the last sip of her drink. “I don’t smell too much like whiskey, do I?” she asks. “Don’t want people to think that I’m making a habit of drinking on the job.”

“I think you’re good,” Kaidan stands up as well. “I probably have stuff I should be doing, anyway.”

“We’ll talk later,” she promises him, trying not to make her words sound too significant, as much as she wants to continue whatever conversation was about to begin between them.

“Yeah.” He nods. “I’d--yeah. I’d like that.”

They leave the cabin together, and whatever words Kaidan had meant to say before Joker’s interruption remain unspoken.


	9. Chapter 9

The Normandy doesn’t return to the Citadel until almost three weeks after the coup due to a combination of Shepard being busy with various assignments and wanting to let things calm down a little on the station before going back. With two Spectres aboard the ship, however, they can’t stay away from the Citadel for long, and so Shepard grants the crew an afternoon off to relax. After working for a few weeks straight without any breaks, it’s something they all deserve.

Kaidan surprises her by inviting her to meet him for lunch at a cafe in the Presidium, an invitation that she tries not to read too much into. In the time that has passed since having a drink in her cabin, they’ve barely had time to talk about anything more than strictly business matters. She hopes that maybe this will give them a chance to finish the conversation that they’d started over that supposedly friendly drink, but for all she knows, his only intention is to give her an opportunity to relax and forget about her duties.

She’s on her way to meet him when she hears the buzz of her comm. “Hey, Shepard,” Garrus says. “Still feeling bad about being outshot up at the top of the Presidium?”

“It was less than an hour ago,” Shepard replies. “I don’t think I’ve forgotten.” As if Garrus hasn’t gloated enough, smugly declaring that the top of the Presidium is his favorite spot on the Citadel after she missed one of her shots while they’d spent some time engaging in illicit target practice. Of course, she’d missed the shot on purpose to give him a bit of a morale boost, but she’s never going to directly tell him that.

“The great Commander Shepard, taken down by the worst turian.” She can hear the laughter in Garrus’s voice. “What’s the galaxy going to think?”

“You’d better watch your mouth, or I might have to start saying stuff like that I let you win,” she teases.

“You wound me, Shepard. Let me live in the illusion.”

She laughs, glad that he’s at least taking the implication of her letting him win in good stride. “Anything else you wanted to say, or did you just want to gloat?”

“Just wanted to thank you again for doing that with me. It was a good distraction.”

“No problem,” she replies. “I had fun too. Can’t talk for much longer, though. I’ve got to meet Kaidan for lunch.”

“Enjoy yourself.” There is a knowing sort of tone in Garrus’s voice that she can’t ignore. “Talk to you later, Shepard. Garrus out.”

She arrives at Apollo’s Cafe, scanning the outdoor tables in search of where Kaidan has told her to meet him. She spots him at a table near the corner of the patio area, and he waves her over.

“Hey,” he greets her. “Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” She sits down at the table. “What kind of place is this, anyway? Never been here before.”

“Serves all kinds of stuff. Best Earth food for an affordable price, from what I’ve heard.” He passes her a menu. “Surprised this place can still get supplies for a menu like this.”

“Maybe it’s better if we don’t ask how. Or where.” Shepard glances over the list of items on the menu that are suited for humans. She doesn’t have the same nostalgia for Earth-made meals as he does, having only lived on Earth for her military training, but the quality of standard food in human-dominant environments tends to be similar wherever you go in the galaxy. The selection here is impressive for such a diverse place as the Citadel.

“You know, I’m glad we’re taking the time to do this.” Kaidan puts down his menu, entwining his hands together on the surface of the table as he leans forward to look at her. “I could use a sanity check.”

“Things have been pretty crazy,” Shepard agrees. Over the past few weeks, she has forgotten what it’s like to have more than an hour or two of free time, and even that time can’t pass by without her feeling as if she has something that she needs to do.

He makes a murmur of assent. “You know, my life flashed before my eyes on Mars, and there weren’t enough moments like this with the people I care about. Figured maybe I should change that while I still have the time.”

Shepard immediately understands what he means. Although she hasn’t had a brush with death as recently as he has, she knows fully well that those moments of thinking about everything that could have been are often hard to handle.

“How are you feeling these days?” she asks him.

“Feeling up to whatever the Reapers throw at me.” Kaidan gives a slight shrug, a gesture that is as unconcerned as it can be considering he’s in the middle of a large-scale galactic war. “And grateful that I convinced you to sit down for half a second and relax.”

“Yeah,” Shepard replies. “I think it’s a good time for us to have a heart-to-heart.” At least now they’re in a place where her duties won’t interfere with their conversation. It would have to take another direct attack on the Citadel to pull her away from her attempts to steer the conversation back to whatever they’d been about to discuss several days earlier. “What are you drinking?” she asks, nodding to his menu.

He chuckles. “If you’re trying to butter me up, it might take a nice steak sandwich too.”

She doesn’t dare ask why he thinks she’s trying to butter him up. All answers to that line of thought take her to the image of them thoroughly breaking regulations in her cabin. “So?” she prompts him.

“Shot of whiskey and a good old Canadian lager,” he says. “Think they have it?”

“More likely to have batarian shard wine.” Shepard looks through the alcohol selection. The variety is diverse, mostly in favor of alien liquors that would make both of them sick. There are a few human-friendly beers listed, but none of them are specifically Canadian in their classification. “Is this the part where we go on an epic journey across the Citadel to find the drink you want?”

“Searching in vain in every restaurant and bar,” he adds, playing along with her imagined scenario.

“Using our Spectre authority to demand why the Citadel has committed the major oversight of not having Canadian lager anywhere on the station.”

“I think I’d draw the line there.” Kaidan laughs. “Don’t want to have us abusing our authority.”

“Stick in the mud,” she teases, deciding that she probably shouldn’t tell him about how less than an hour ago she’d used her Spectre authorization code to get her and Garrus onto the top of the Presidium.

“Rebel,” he retorts.

“Only the best kind of rebel.” She catches his eye and holds his gaze in a moment that is simultaneously too long and too short. An urge to nudge his feet under the table grows within her. Instead, she keeps her legs crossed under the table. The toe of one of her boots taps lightly against the table’s leg.

“So what are you having?” Kaidan asks her.

“The Elysium Special Brew looks promising. Think I’m going to join you in a steak sandwich too.” Shepard selects the items on her menu. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had proper protein not in the form of an energy bar?”

“Probably far too long.” Kaidan picks up his menu once more to place his order. “It’s a shame they don’t have the Canadian lager, though. I know it was a long shot, but I was hoping that I could have a taste of home.”

“Yeah?” Shepard leans an elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand.

“Feeling a little nostalgic, I guess. At my parents’ place in Vancouver, I drank more than a couple beers on their balcony looking over English Bay.” A wistful expression crosses his face, and she’s sure that he’s thinking of having to leave Vancouver behind in flames. “Yeah, it was a beautiful view.”

She half-expects him to follow this up with a sappy one-liner like “but not as beautiful as the view in front of me,” but she doubts that he’d use a line like that on her at a time like this. “You know what, though?” he continues on. “I feel good about our chances.”

“In the war?” asks Shepard in clarification. Now hardly seems like the time for him to have a surge of optimism, especially with thoughts of Earth remaining on his mind.

“Yeah.” He sets his menu down on the table. He fidgets in a strangely endearing motion, rubbing the knuckle of one of his thumbs with the other thumb and forefinger. “Helps me sleep better at night.”

“You’re not sleeping, Kaidan?” she inquires. Of course, nobody sleeps well when a war is happening, but knowing that he has been having the same amount of sleepless nights as she has gives her a strange sense of affinity with him.

“Maybe a little restless,” he admits. Again that subtle fidgeting movement, and this time he deliberately averts his eyes from her. “But the war isn’t the only thing keeping me up at night. I wonder about us.”

“Us?” Shepard lifts her chin from where it has been resting on her hand. Her arm slowly drops to rest on the table once more, and her heartbeat quickens in anticipation of what he is going to say next.

He lifts his gaze to look at her. “I love you, Shepard. I always have.”

The words leave his mouth with no hesitation, as if they are part of the simplest statement in the galaxy. The force of them, however, sends her emotions aflame once her brain fully processes the frank declaration of his feelings.

“I know--I know things between us have been complicated,” he continues on. “But I know that we’ve been trying to make things better, too. I used to think that maybe things could never go back to how they were before, but I can’t really deny that there’s something still there. I just want to understand what this is between us and make it real. I mean, that’s what I want.” He looks down at the table again in a nervous moment of breaking eye contact. “What do you want?”

“I can’t bury what I feel for you anymore, and I don’t want to.” She’s tried to do that for far too long, and any doubts that she’d once had about her feelings for him have long since vanished. She has tried to rationalize, making feeble attempts to convince herself that maybe she doesn’t love him, that maybe Kaidan is no different than the men she’d been with in her younger years, all of those desperate attempts to use sex to make herself feel wanted. With him, though, she has found something that is all at once wonderful and frightening, and she wants nothing more than to rekindle that feeling with him.

“I need you, Kaidan,” she admits, the words tumbling softly from her lips. She meets his eyes in an earnest gaze. “You--you’re all I’ve ever needed.”

A smile curls the corners of his mouth upward, and his eyes gleam with joy. He reaches both his hands out to her, hesitating as if asking silent permission. When she doesn’t pull back, he takes hold of one of her hands resting on the table, encircling it in a gentle grip.

“And that makes me so happy.” He brings her hand up to touch his cheek. Instinctively, she circles her thumb under his jawline, brushing up against light stubble and the faint ridge of a faded scar. “And there are benefits to that happiness.” He presses a quick kiss to the palm of her hand. The brief touch of his lips sends a spark through her, branching out like a forked bolt of lightning and settling deep within her gut. She wants nothing more than to lean forward and kiss him, tasting him on her lips and in her mouth, but the very public setting of their current situation holds her back.

He releases her hand, moving away from her to establish a professional distance between them once more. “But more on that later,” he says.

“Later?” She leans forward, speaking quietly so that nobody around them can hear. “We need to get back to the Normandy ASAP.”

“Ah--too late.” He gives a brief chuckle. “Our drinks are here, and I’m going to take my time.” He nods to the approaching salarian waiter, who sets their drinks on the table in front of him.

Shepard holds back the childish pout that threatens to cross her lips. Of course Kaidan is going to take his time here, just as he does with everything. No amount of longing for physical contact between them is going to stop him from forcing her to be patient.

“What’d you call it?” she grumbles. “A sanity check?” It seems like they’re now engaging in the opposite of that, since his insistence that they take their time before returning to the Normandy is going to drive her insane if he continues to uphold his restraint for much longer.

“Mm. Sanity check.” He smiles and sips his drink. “It’s funny. A couple of years ago I’d never expect myself to be the one to tell you to take a breather. You were always the one telling me to relax and not be so worried about work.”

“Guess this is what happens when the whole galaxy’s at war.” Shepard takes a drink as well. “At least now we’ll have other distractions to keep us sane now.” She puts special emphasis on the word “distractions.” “Providing you ever let us leave this restaurant, of course.”

“Trust me, Shepard, if it weren’t for the fact that we’ve already ordered our meals, we’d probably be kissing in the elevator on the Normandy because we wouldn’t be able to wait until we’re in your cabin.”

The mere thought of this course of action makes Shepard want to do nothing more but follow through with it here and now. “If only we weren’t in public right now,” she laments. She reaches out to lay her hand on top of his in a gesture subtle enough to look accidental. He flips his hand over to tighten his grip, and his thumb traces a path up and down the ridges of her knuckles. “I think this is as much as we can get away with without ending up as tomorrow’s headlines.”

“Or court-martialed for fraternization,” Kaidan points out.

“Yeah, that too.” Shepard supposes that should have been the first thing for her to be concerned with, but nobody has ever said that her priorities are always in the right order. She lets go of his hand reluctantly.“If anything, though, I’m glad that we were able to have this talk.”

“Me too.” Kaidan drinks from his glass again. “I mean, in an ideal world, this would have happened earlier. I would have been quicker in sorting out what I feel for you, and… yeah. I wanted to tell you that time we were in your cabin the other day, but, you know…”

“Joker,” Shepard finishes for him. After all the times that he has interrupted her during moments of romantic tension, she wonders why she has even bothered to play matchmaker for him and EDI. “Yeah, I kind of figured. You don’t know how badly I wanted to say something. Guess the timing just wasn’t right.”

“All that matters is that we found the moment now.” One of his feet brushes up against hers under the table, and she’s not sure whether it was intentional or accidental. “But now we also have to play the game of ‘how long until the rest of the crew figures it out?’”

“Garrus probably already suspects,” Shepard admits after taking a drink. “I may have drunkenly told him that I’m still in love with you a while back.”

“Wait, hold on, when were you drunk?” Kaidan asks in disbelief. “I thought you never got drunk.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mutters. “I was emotionally compromised.”

“Because of what was happening between us?”

“Something like that.” Shepard looks down into the depths of her glass, not wanting to admit how much she’d lost control of herself that night.

Soon their meals arrive, and they pass the time spent eating with easy conversation, both of them riding high in the aftermath of the mutual admission of their feelings. The quality of the food helps, too, because ship food is always never satisfying enough. When they’ve both had their fill, plates and glasses empty and the bill paid for, they’re left with the immense decision of where to take things next. A little less than an hour remains until their scheduled departure, and Shepard doesn’t have much more to take care of on the Citadel. If it were strictly up to her, they’d go straight to her cabin on the Normandy, but she is sure that Kaidan will want to take a more subtle approach.

“So, um…” she proposes hesitantly. “Back to the ship, I guess?”

“I have a few more things I have to do here,” Kaidan says, and at her immediate protest of “Really?” he laughs. “I’m sorry. I’ll be done as soon as I can. Then we’ll be able to go to your cabin, and… yeah.” He leaves the implications of the phrase unspoken. “I mean, we’re probably better off waiting until we’re flying again anyway. But that’s only about an hour from now.”

“An hour and a half,” Shepard corrects him. “They always make us do tons of flight checks before we leave.”

“An hour and a half, then. It’s not that much time when you think about it.” Kaidan brushes his hand against hers on top of the table.

“Well, you’d better be there in my cabin once we’re flying, Major,” she says. “That’s an order.”

“Aye-aye, ma’am. Although would you really write me up for insubordination on something like this?”

“Probably not,” Shepard admits. “I’ll see you later, Kaidan.”

The moment when they go their separate ways after leaving the restaurant is unbearable, and Shepard already eagerly counts down the seconds until they are together again.


	10. Chapter 10

Shepard has rarely been as restless as she is when she waits for the time that she and Kaidan can be alone in her cabin. The hardest part is filling the hour before the Normandy’s scheduled takeoff, during which her levels of impatience increase rapidly. No matter how much she tries to get a head start on paperwork so that she won’t have to spend the next few nights staying up late to work on it, she can’t focus on it too long. Not when her mind is imagining all the scenarios that could play out once Kaidan has arrived.

Once the time of departure approaches, the duties that she has to take care of consume her enough to distract her from these thoughts. Returning to her cabin after everything has checked out, however, brings her anticipation and impatience back in full force. When her comm buzzes and she hears Kaidan’s voice on the other end, she nearly overflows with excitement.

“On my way up,” he says. “See you soon.”

“Yeah, you too,” she manages to get out before disconnecting from the call. She then addresses EDI’s ever-lurking presence inside the ship. “Hey, EDI, I’m going to be off the grid for a little while, so to speak. If anyone needs me for anything, can you direct their concerns elsewhere?”

“Of course, Shepard,” EDI says. “Does this concern your courtship with Major Alenko?”

“That’s none of your business.” Shepard wonders if EDI will be able to process her denial as a sign of confirmation. “And don’t say anything about that to anyone else. Not even Joker.”

“Yes, Shepard. Logging you out.”

While waiting for Kaidan’s arrival, she tidies the cabin in a restless bout of cleaning. She’s not sure why she’s so nervous to have him here in her cabin. It’s not like he’s never been here before, nor is this the first time that they have been intimate. Maybe it's because she is partially convinced that the admission of their feelings at Apollo’s Cafe never happened, and this is all part of an elaborate dream. She soon realizes that it could never be a dream. It’s not nightmarish enough to be something that her subconscious has fabricated.

A couple of minutes later, her unlocked door slides open. She walks toward the doorway and sees Kaidan standing there, and his sheepish, almost awkward “Hi” barely leaves his lips before she drags him into the room. She pulls up her omni-tool to lock the door and disable the surveillance mechanisms, her fingers never moving faster against the interface except during the heat of combat.

Kaidan opens his mouth to speak again, but Shepard promptly cuts him off.

“No. We’ve done enough talking. Now I want… I just want…” Her whole body trembles with desire and anticipation. With no more words left to say between them, she grabs him and captures him in a kiss that is three years in the making, three years of grief and heartbreak and longing that have finally come to a head in this single moment.

His hands quickly settle on either side of her face, cupping her cheeks and tangling themselves in her hair. She lets her own hands travel downward, grabbing his ass and squeezing gently. He retaliates by biting down on her lip hard enough for a soft moan to escape from her.

“God, I’ve missed you,” she whispers once they have pulled away from each other.

“All of me or just, you know, certain parts of me?” The sides of his mouth pull up into a smile.

“All of you,” she says. She kisses him again, shorter this time. Her hands remain in place around his ass, a wordless reminder that maybe there is one particular part of him that she has missed.

He traces a finger down her cheek. His dark eyelashes flutter, as if he is doubting whether she is actually there in front of him.

“You, uh, cleared your schedule, right?” he asks.

“My door’s locked and comms are off,” she replies. “If anyone needs me, they’re going to have to wait.” She hesitates before adding, “Oh, right. Later on, if anyone in the crew asks you if you’re feeling better, just go with it. I might have hypothetically told them that you have a migraine to explain why you’re not going to be on duty for the next hour or so.”

“Shepard!” His response is indignant, but the warmth in his eyes belies his anger. “I can’t believe you’d use my migraines for evil like that.”

“It’s not evil,” she insists. As his hands move to settle around her hips, she presses soft kisses to his lips, his cheek, his jawline. Her fingers lace together at the back of his neck below the thin surgical scar marking the insertion of his biotic implant. “But if you keep trying to distract me with talking, I might have to start calling you an evil tease.”

“No more talking, then,” he agrees. “For now.”

She takes him by the hand and leads him over to her bed. All of the little things that she has missed about him now come into full focus, and the way that his fingers perfectly intertwine with hers is one of these little things. When they sit down on the soft blanket that covers her bed, her first instinct is to jump straight into bed with him, because _goddamn_ three years is a long time. However, at the gentle touch of his hands when he unclasps the front of her shirt, she realizes that she should savor this moment as if it is her first time sleeping with him all over again.

They help each other undress, moving slowly and carefully with very few words spoken between them as they remove shirts, boots, and Shepard’s bra. She rests a hand against Kaidan’s bared chest as he cups her breasts in his hands, rolling them beneath his palms. She lets out a breath of contentment when he dips his head down to kiss the top of each breast.

“God, Kaidan,” she murmurs as his lips trace paths across the curves of her body. She leans back to lie down on the bed to give him better access. A tremble passes through her when he splays a hand across the taut muscles of her stomach for leverage as his mouth toys against her breasts.

He eventually lifts his head, and she props herself onto her elbows to look at him. She sees the slight frown in his expression as his eyes focus on a certain spot below the left side of her ribcage where there had once been a prominent scar. Of course. He wouldn’t know about how Cerberus purged away all of her old scars when they’d given her a new coat of skin during her reconstruction.

She sits up fully, meeting his lips with a wordless kiss before she fumbles with the button and zipper of his pants. He finishes the job for her, sliding them down over his legs and tossing them aside so that soon he wears nothing except his boxer-briefs. Paying no mind to their now-unequal states of dress, she strokes him through the thin fabric, watching the amber depths of his eyes glaze over with pleasure at the indirect stimulation. A quiet moan leaves his lips, and Shepard smirks in response.

“Don’t tease me like that,” he says.

She’s not sure whether “teasing” refers to her smirk or the way her hand continues to work against him through the fabric. “Not teasing,” she replies.

She hooks her fingers under the waistband of his boxer-briefs to pull them down, wrapping a hand around his cock to coax him to full hardness. She treasures each of the sounds that she can elicit from him, sharp intakes of breath and low moans.

“Shepard--” he gasps, the rest of his words dying away after his strained cry of her name. Not wanting to end things too quickly, she helps him completely remove the fabric now pulled halfway down his legs. Her breath hitches in her throat at the sight of his naked body before her. Having the memory of him in her mind for the past three years is one thing, but seeing him in front of her now makes her realize how much she _wants_ him.

She undoes her own pants, leaving Kaidan to pull them down over the toned muscle of her legs. Reclining back on the bed once more, she lifts her hips up so he can remove her underwear as well. He sits back and looks at her for a long, agonizing moment, taking the time to memorize her body once again and note the changes that have occurred: the absence of old scars, the deep lines of new scars from her reconstruction that have not faded with time. She feels open and vulnerable under his gaze, but in the best way possible. Everything is laid bare for him now, and after everything that has happened between them, she is glad that they can now look upon each other with no physical and emotional barriers to get in the way.

“You’re beautiful,” Kaidan murmurs. He lays a hand on the inside of her thigh as he kisses the skin directly above the curve of her hipbone. Shepard bites her lip against her desire to have him touch her, to have his cock inside her.

He slips a finger between her legs, gently teasing the sensitive folds of skin before circling slowly around her clit. Her deep moan of satisfaction soon becomes lost in his mouth when he leans forward to kiss her. She closes her eyes as she gives herself over to pure pleasure, the heat of arousal building deep inside her at his touch.

A quiet, disappointed sigh leaves her when he eventually moves his dampened fingers away from her and kisses her cheek in an innocent gesture. He brushes stray strands of hair away from her face, and the brief hint of her own scent enters her nostrils.

“Are you ready to--” he asks her, his question only half-formed as he leaves the rest of his words unspoken.

“Yeah.” Her response is not much more than a quiet whisper as she rolls him over onto his back so that she can take control. She kisses along the line of his throat, one hand exploring the plane of his chest.

“I, uh, brought some protection in case, you know, this happened and you didn’t have any,” he says. “Should I…?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Shepard shifts so that he can get up from the bed. “That condom better not have been rattling around in your pocket since you were in basic,” she teases him as he retrieves the small packet from his pants.

He laughs, a deep, throaty sound. “I think you’d know better than anyone else that I’ve gotten laid since then, Commander.”

Once they’re both ready, she eases herself down onto him, rocking her hips slowly until they find a comfortable position. They soon settle into the old rhythm of sex, as if only a few days have passed since their last union rather than years. Kaidan clenches his hands around her hips to hold her steady, his fingers kneading into her ass as they move together. She leans forward to kiss him, needing another point of junction with him while she savors this moment of their two bodies united as one.

The crackle of static energy fills the air as a biotic corona unconsciously flares around him when he nears his release. They’d both been able to do that once, the twin energy of their biotics heightening the intensity of their experience. Now, however, she only has the strength of her own body, and so she quickens their pace, spurred on by the sound of her name on his lips.

A nearby crash brings them to a momentary halt. Shepard looks around and sees that a spike in Kaidan’s biotics has knocked her lamp off the bedside table. “Shit,” he murmurs, his voice breathless from their exertions. “Sorry about that.”

In response, she laughs, not at him, but rather at the absurdity of the situation. They are the first two human Spectres, the best and brightest examples of humanity, and yet here they are, destroying her belongings in the middle of sex.

“You okay?” she asks, hoping the mood hasn’t been ruined too much.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Still good.”

They soon resume, starting slowly before returning to their previous rhythm that leaves them both breathless as the height of their pleasure increases. Kaidan arches his pelvis up to meet her, closing his eyes as a soft hiss of breath escapes from him. Shepard’s entire body tenses and trembles as she approaches her own orgasm.

When they are both spent, everything cleaned up and disposed of, they lie together, bare skin pressed against bare skin. Shepard runs a hand across Kaidan’s stubbled jawline, giving him a brief kiss.

“I love you,” she says, not much louder than a whisper. She hasn’t said these words to him since the last night before the attack on the original Normandy, back when the phrase had been new and exciting to them. Now, three years later, she wishes that they hadn’t lost all that time during which death and anger and uncertainty have separated them.

“I love you too,” Kaidan replies in equally soft tones. “And that was… wow. Pretty fantastic.”

“Mm. Definitely.” She rests her head on his chest and nuzzles her face into his neck. “My poor lamp,” she adds in a teasingly lamenting tone.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he says, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“You don’t have to do that.” No matter how much she insists, however, she’s sure that he will not heed her words.

Her eyes flutter open and closed as she lies perfectly still, her only other movement being the slight rise and fall of her chest with every breath she takes. She shifts position to lie with her back to him as he wraps an arm around her to hold her close. The soft touch of his fingers against her skin is nearly enough to lull her to sleep.

“You don’t have your old scars anymore,” he notes, his voice pulling her out of her soporific tranquility.

“Yeah. Cerberus got rid of those.” It had been hard to accept at first, losing the marks that had once defined her history: the gash in her side from batarian slavers on Mindoir, the slice above her upper lip from the thresher maw on Akuze, along with countless other small reminders of everything that she has endured throughout her life. All it shows is further proof that even if one can rebuild Commander Shepard, she won’t be the same as the original.

“They could get every freckle right, but they couldn’t replicate scars,” Kaidan muses aloud, tracing nonsense patterns across the freckles that dot her shoulders. He brushes his lips against the skin where his fingers have touched.

“I might have tried to convince Chakwas to recreate them for me,” Shepard confesses. “But she said it went against her oath to do no harm. Plus I was probably a little emotionally compromised in the matter, anyway.”

Kaidan murmurs in agreement. “Just know that you’re still you, no matter what.”

“I know.” She nestles closer to him. The warmth of his embrace resounds within the very core of her being. “I wish we could stay like this forever,” she says. “But I know the minute I turn my comm back on I’m going to have a million things to take care of.”

“Then don’t turn your comm on.” His voice has a distinct note of mischievousness that she would have never expected from him.

“I wouldn’t have thought that you’d be encouraging me to shirk on my duties, Major,” she teases.

“Only if it means being able to spend more time with you.” He kisses her shoulder again.

“You’re such a romantic.”

“I try.” Shepard can hear the smile in his words.

She allows a few more minutes of peaceful silence to pass between them before lighting up her omni-tool to turn on her comm, leaving surveillance disabled for now. Sure enough, only a few seconds pass before she has an incoming message.

“Commander,” comes the sound of Traynor’s voice. “I’ve been trying to reach you on the comm for ages. Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Shepard turns to give Kaidan a “what did I tell you?” look. “I just shut my comm off for a little while. What’s up?”

“I wanted to let you know that you have new messages at your private terminal.”

Shepard sighs. “Thanks, Traynor.” With all the urgency in Traynor’s voice, she has expected to hear about something far more important than new emails. The comm specialist’s enthusiasm and eagerness to please her, however, means that even the smallest thing is treated as if it is of utmost importance.

“My pleasure, Commander,” Traynor replies.

Once the calls ends, Shepard dismisses her omni-tool and rolls over to fully face Kaidan. “Guess it’s time for me to get back to work,” she says.

“The work of a CO is never done.” He runs a hand through her hair to smooth it down, his fingers lingering on her cheek afterward. “I should go down to the shuttle bay, anyway. I told Vega I’d help him with some weapon mods.”

He stands up from the bed and gathers his clothes to redress. Shepard resists the urge to reach out and squeeze his bare ass as he passes by her. The lack of the warmth of his body beside her leaves an empty space in her bed, and so she gets up as well, putting on her now slightly wrinkled clothing.

“You know,” she says, taking hold of his hands as the two of them linger near the door. “If you want, you can come back tonight. I, um…” She hesitates, not sure whether she should admit to him that the long nights alone in her cabin are when she feels the most lonely and uncertain. “I could use the company.”

“All right,” he agrees. “I’ll see you later.”

They share one final kiss in farewell before he departs, and by the time he is gone, she already misses him.


	11. Chapter 11

In the aftermath of the re-consummation of Shepard and Kaidan’s relationship, they do indeed have to play the game of trying to hide their relationship from the rest of the crew. It is impossible to completely hide the new development, however. With surveillance turned off during their moments of intimacy, EDI is sure to question the gaps in her ability to perceive what is happening in Shepard’s cabin, and it will only take one inquiry to Joker before he puts the pieces together. Shepard is certain that Chakwas knows too, judging by the knowing smile on her face when Shepard stops by the medbay to have Chakwas activate the dormant birth control implant that Cerberus has rebuilt her with (“just in case,” as she’d been told, and she’s certainly not going to take any chances despite her uncertainty of whether her reconstructed body can become pregnant). Of course, as a medical professional Chakwas would never make any direct inquiries about her and Kaidan, but the way that she kindly suggests that Shepard take a supply of condoms on her way out indicates that she knows a new development has taken place.

Three days later, Shepard is in the cargo bay, ostensibly working even though “helping Garrus test a new model of sniper rifle” isn’t exactly something that she can include in a report to Hackett or the Council. She’s glad that Garrus has employed her help, however, because she’s always looking for opportunities to practice her shooting. Using firearms comes naturally to her, having known how to shoot since her youth on Mindoir when her father would set up empty bottles as target practice in the backyard, but she has only started using sniper rifles extensively within the past year. She’d passed many hours during her time with Cerberus in the cargo bay with Garrus as her patient teacher as she became more proficient with sniping. Now he trusts her skills enough to test out the preliminary calibrations that he has done to the sniper rifles newly acquired on the Citadel.

“Nice one!” Garrus exclaims in praise of her when she hits all three targets that they have set up. “Let’s do one more round to make sure these settings aren’t a fluke.”

Shepard comes out from where she has been crouched behind some crates. “You think I made those shots out of pure luck?” she asks, reloading the weapon with new practice rounds. “I thought we’ve already established that I’m practically as good as you are now.”

“Yeah, but you can’t blame the wind for missing when you’re down here,” Garrus points out. Shepard merely throws him a playful scowl in response and crouches down again once the rifle has been reloaded. When she’s ready, she comes out of cover enough to line up the shot in the rifle’s scope. She is about to pull the trigger when the very familiar sound of Kaidan’s voice talking to James breaks her concentration. Her aim slips, and when she fires she misses the target completely.

“Damn, Shepard, that wasn’t even close,” says Garrus. Shepard only half-listens to his words. The voice that captures her attention instead is Kaidan’s faint inquiry of “What the hell was that?”

“The Commander and Garrus are doing target practice,” comes the equally distant sound of James’s reply. “Guess Esteban and I can never have some peace and quiet down here.”

Shepard comes out from behind the crates, laying the rifle down and deliberately avoiding the inevitably smug expression on Garrus’s face. Kaidan is standing near James’s workstation, having arrived when she was too focused on shooting the target. He catches her eye and lifts a hand to her in greeting. She returns the gesture before walking over to speak to him.

“Major,” she greets him in a strictly businesslike tone.

“Commander,” he replies. “Keeping busy, I see.”

“Well, you know Garrus. Won’t rest until he knows all the new guns are calibrated properly. At least we’ve been getting good results when I haven’t been, you know, accidentally missing.”

“Never thought I’d see you mess something up like that,” James says with a snicker.

“My hand slipped.” It’s a poor excuse, definitely not one she can use to cover up mistakes in actual combat. Then again, out in the field her mind will be far more attuned to the mission at hand so that Kaidan will not be a distraction.

She fixes James with a look of “are you sassing your commanding officer,” and he immediately backtracks. “Uh, but we all make mistakes, right, Commander?”

Shepard laughs. “Just giving you a hard time, Vega. What brings you down here?” She nods to Kaidan.

“Heard you were down here and thought I’d say hey. Didn’t think you’d be in the middle of target practice.” Kaidan gestures to the targets that Garrus has set up. “I should let you get back to that. Don’t want to distract you any more than I already am.”

“I’ll see you later, right?” she asks, putting enough emphasis on her words to let him know that “seeing him later” means “having sex in her cabin.” Spending the last few days in transit since leaving the Citadel has given them plenty of time for intimacy. Although Shepard is sure their sex life will slow down once her workload piles up again, right now she’s glad to be able to make up for lost time.

“Definitely. Looking forward to it.” The smile that tugs at his lips is more than enough indication that he understands her meaning. “Let me know when you’re free?”

“Yeah. See you, Kaidan.”

After they have exchanged words of farewell and Kaidan has left the cargo bay, Shepard returns to where Garrus has been waiting. The look on his face would be unreadable to any human who is not familiar with turian body language, but she has spent enough time around turians--him in particular--that she knows a smirk when she sees one.

“What?” she inquires in response to the unspoken implications of the look he gives her.

“You and Kaidan are sleeping together again, aren’t you?”

Shepard opens her mouth in surprise before promptly closing it again. “What are you, the ship’s gossip?” she says. “Where’d you get that from?”

“Because I can’t think of anything else that would distract you enough that you’d miss a shot like that. And you didn’t answer my question.”

Shepard looks around to make sure nobody is listening before she replies, keeping her voice quiet. “Okay, you got me. But don’t tell anyone about it. It’s still new and, well, equally as against the rules as it was last time.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand human military customs,” Garrus says. “On turian ships, finding ways to blow off steam--sex included--is actively encouraged. Keeps us from killing each other.”

“It’s not necessarily the sex that’s the problem,” Shepard explains. “It’s the feelings behind the sex that are the issue. Complicates the chain of command and influences decisions not always for the better.” She inevitably thinks back to her choice to go to Kaidan first on Virmire, leaving her unable to save Ashley. It was the right choice from a military standpoint because he was the higher-ranked officer, but she can’t help but wonder whether that mission would have played out differently if she hadn’t had the emotional attachment to Kaidan.

“Ah. Well, I promise I won’t tell anyone about it. Although I may have to have a little chat with Kaidan. You know, the ‘if you ever pull what you did on Horizon again, that ass of yours that Shepard likes so much isn’t going to be in one piece anymore’ talk.”

“Oh my God. You wouldn’t.” Shepard laughs. Garrus has acted like a protective brother toward her on more than one occasion, but him threatening Kaidan takes his role a little too far.

“I saw the aftermath of what happened on Horizon, Shepard. It wasn’t pretty. Do you really want to go through that again?”

“No,” she admits. The heartbreak that she’d felt at that time isn’t something that she wants to revisit. She’s the great Commander Shepard, not someone who falls into the old cliche of crying into a carton of ice cream after having an argument with a loved one. “Look, you really don’t have to threaten Kaidan. We’ve talked through what happened last year, and I know that he won’t hurt me again.”

“Well, good,” says Garrus. “Because I respect him, and I don’t really want to think about a situation where I’d need to tell him not to hurt you.”

“I’m sure he appreciates the faith you have in him.” Shepard nods to the targets that have been set up. “So, what do you think? Still need my help in testing the rifles?”

“Only if you promise not to screw up so badly as you did last time.” Garrus’s smirk returns, all seriousness lost.

“Better watch your mouth, big guy,” Shepard teases as she makes her way to where she left the sniper rifle. “Or else I might have to shoot it right off your face to prove you wrong.”

They continue their testing of the sniper rifles without much further interruption. When Garrus is finally satisfied with the performance of the weapons, Shepard returns to her cabin. She expects to find her quarters empty as usual, but when she opens the door she finds Kaidan crouched down beside her bedside table. He seems to be installing a new lamp in place of the one that he had broken a few days earlier. At the sound of her entering the room, he jumps in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“I, uh. I heard some asshole broke your lamp during sex the other day. Thought I’d fix that for you.” He indicates the new lamp and the tools that he has been using to secure it place on the surface of the table.

“Well, if I ever see him, I’ll have to tell him that all is forgiven,” Shepard replies, playing along with his self-deprecation. “Where’d you get the new lamp?”

“Borrowed it from the crew lounge. Figured it had better use here. I’m not sure whether anyone will notice that it’s missing, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He turns back to his handiwork. He uses a screwdriver to put the final necessary screw in place. “There. It’s not going anywhere now.” Kaidan stands up, wiping his brow. The shift of his muscles beneath the short sleeves of his shirt momentarily distracts Shepard until she realizes that there is a pressing question that has not been answered yet.

“How did you get in here, anyway?” she asks. “I thought I locked the door.”

“Uh, yeah. About that.” A sheepish expression comes across his face. “You might want to get a better lock. I may or may not have been able to hack through it in about ten seconds.”

Shepard makes a mental note to have EDI investigate upgraded locks for the ship as a whole. “You could have asked EDI to let you in, you know. As long as you said it was okay with me, she probably would have done it.”

“Yeah, but that would be lying, seeing as I didn’t have your permission,” he points out.

“And hacking your way in is better than lying?” Shepard laughs. “Seriously, though. From now on, consider yourself always welcome in here, even when I’m not around. If you need a nice bed to rest in, or a good shower, or, I don’t know, some peace and quiet, you can always come up.”

“Thanks, Shepard.” He leans forward to find the switch to the lamp. He turns it on, and the small lamp fills the room with further brightness. “There we go. Might be able to sync it up to your omni-tool so that you can control it from there, but we’ll save that for later.” He switches the lamp off. “And sorry again for breaking your old lamp. I don’t think I’ve accidentally broken something with my biotics since I was a teenager. Kind of embarrassing.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shepard assures him. She sits down on her bed, and he soon joins her. “Believe it or not, I’m probably one of the least coordinated marines out there. When it comes to ordinary activities, that is,” she adds, realizing how much her claim falls flat to those who have seen her in combat.

“Actually, I think I can believe it,” says Kaidan with a laugh. “I’ve seen you drive the Mako.”

“In my defense, that thing handles like a drunken rhino. You probably couldn’t do any better.” She takes hold of his hand, entwining their fingers together. “But I probably had something to do with it too. Did I ever tell you that I failed my driving test three times back in basic?”

“Seriously?” Kaidan shifts to pull her closer to him. Shepard leans her back against him, taking off her boots so that she can turn sideways to put her feet up on the bed. He encircles his other arm around her, their entwined hands remaining in place. “I’m surprised they didn’t give up on you.”

“I think they were ready to,” she says. “But I pulled through in the end. Must’ve stayed on my record, though, because it took a lot of convincing for me to be allowed to do special vehicles training in N-School.”

“Didn’t you learn to drive before the military?” Kaidan asks.

“My dad let me drive his tractor for practice a couple of times, but that never turned out well either.” Memories of those moments have not faded from her mind, no matter how far away they are. She distinctly remembers a time when her clumsy and reckless driving had knocked over a fence, resulting in her receiving a strict lecture about being more careful. “He said he was going to give me proper driving lessons one day but then… well, the batarian raid happened.”

She doesn’t want to hear Kaidan’s quiet noise of pity, the kind of reaction she gets from everyone on the rare occasion that she mentions the one event that changed her life forever. “Sorry,” he says. “Didn’t mean for you to think about something heavy like that.”

“It’s okay.” As much as she likes to keep most of her memories of Mindoir locked away and out of reach, she has learned that it’s healthy for her to not have them hidden away at all times.

Kaidan tightens his hold around her, letting that action speak louder than any words of comfort can. He kisses the top of her head, his nose buried in her hair. She hears him inhale a quiet breath as he breathes in the very essence of her existence.

“Moving on to brighter topics,” Shepard says. As much as she enjoys closeness with Kaidan like this, she doesn’t want it to arise out of his perceived need to comfort her. “Did you have any other reason for coming by besides installing a new lamp?”

Kaidan pulls away from her so that his words are not lost in her hair. “I actually expected to be out of here before you got back. Wanted the fixed lamp to be a surprise. But, uh… I guess it goes without saying that being with you is enough reason to come here. Not that I’m, you know, expecting anything,” he clarifies. “I can go if you want. Or if you’re going to be too busy.”

“No,” she replies. “I can always make time for you.”

She shifts, swinging her legs around so that she sits astride him, her hands on his shoulders for leverage. A soft murmur of satisfaction leaves his lips before she kisses him, slowly at first before deepening in passion, filled with love and the need to make up for lost time. When she pulls away from him, she activates her omni-tool to turn off surveillance and her comm, and in this moment, they become the only ones in the galaxy.


	12. Chapter 12

As time passes, Kaidan’s presence in Shepard’s cabin during the night cycle becomes more of the rule than the exception. Even though the warm form of his body beside her comforts her immensely, she continues to remain awake through the majority of her nights, either working or unable to sleep. Whenever she does have time to get a few hours’ rest, her dreams mostly take the form of the boy in the forest that has plagued her ever since leaving Earth, but occasionally she reverts back to her old nightmares that tread the delicate line between flashback and fantasy. She tells Kaidan that she doesn’t want to sleep because she has too much work to do, and she tells herself that she doesn’t want to sleep because she’s afraid that the galaxy will go speeding past her while she’s slumbering. In the depths of her heart, however, she knows that the real reason for her lack of sleep is because she is terrified of the nightmares that will inevitably come to her.

She’s back on Akuze, the young soldier with an already impressive record on what she thinks will be a routine mission. She feels the ground shake under her feet in the abandoned settlement, hears Commander Ryan’s yell of “ _Everyone get down! It’s a goddamn thresher maw!_ ” Everything flashes around her too fast for her to fully take in: the crackling of her biotic barrier around her, the rumble of the ground below her as the thresher maw burrows into the earth, the force of the air getting knocked out of her lungs when the thresher maw resurfaces and sends her flying backwards. The scent of death fills the air, and the broken and battered bodies of the majority of her unit lie on the ground. The sight of bones jutting out from flesh, limbs ripped from bodies, and blood spattered across the ground is something that she could have never prepared herself to see, and even her nine-years-later waking self recoils at the slaughter. Her own blood drips from the cut across her upper lip, filling her mouth with a terrible coppery taste that doesn’t go away even after she spits out the blood.

Everything around her moves simultaneously too fast and too slow. The thresher maw attacks, but Shepard moves as if in slow motion, pulling herself away from the trajectory of its assault and activating her biotics to hurl a slab of rock at it. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears as she waits for inevitable death. Even though she knows that the conclusion of this event has already happened, that she will survive this, her terror rises higher with every passing second.

Ryan limps up beside her, acid from the thresher maw having burned through the chest plate of his armor, and pulls her out of the range of attack. She turns to thank him, but the landscape around her swiftly changes, moving away from her memories of Akuze into the realm of pure fantasy. He is now farther away from her, drifting as if he’s been hurtled into the far reaches of space. Her surroundings alter to reflect this, leaving him suspended in the infinite inky blackness. Other familiar figures join him--Ashley, Mordin, Thane, all of those who sacrificed themselves with her helpless to prevent it. She reaches out and tries to propel herself forward, but they remain eternally out of her reach.

They fade away. Shepard screams out their names, but they do not return. Instead, a new figure comes into focus, a familiar form that makes her heart leap into her chest. Kaidan floats just out of her reach, and as much as she stretches her arms forward, trying desperately to keep him from being lost to the depths of space, she cannot pull him back.

“ _Kaidan!_ ” she cries. “ _Don’t leave me!_ ”

Her words are lost to the abyss. So are her breaths as she struggles to bring air into her lungs, and now she’s back at the moment of the Normandy’s destruction. She’s dying slowly, the empty void of space suffocating her as her oxygen runs out, and yet she continues pushing herself forward in a futile attempt to reach Kaidan. He fades out like all the others, disappearing into the darkness. She opens her mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. Instead, the rattly grip of death closes in around her, cutting off her breath abruptly.

Shepard jerks awake, her limbs flailing in an echo of the movements from her dream. She tries to breathe, but each intake of breath feels like she’s drowning, the air heavy in her lungs as if they have filled up with water. Her heart pounds in her chest, resounding in her head as panic and terror swallow her up and leave her helpless to fight back. She curls in on herself, her breathing coming in short erratic gasps that shake her entire body. The dark interior of her cabin blurs around her, and when she closes her eyes, the images from the dream resurface. She feels like she’s still dreaming, still dying.

“Shepard!” Kaidan’s voice sounds distant, as if it’s being filtered through a tiny speaker. “Hey--Shepard!” His hand is cool against her skin when he touches her shoulder hesitantly. She does not turn to face him. A trio of shallow breaths force their way out of her throat.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, rubbing her back in a steady, comforting motion. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

The sensation of his hand against her back grounds her, gradually returning her to reality. Her breathing slows, and she blocks out everything else around her to focus on her breaths. Deep inhale from the diaphragm, hold, slow exhale. The pattern repeats until her heart stops pounding and her body relaxes. She loses track of how long it takes, but Kaidan stays by her side the whole time, helping her dispel the panic coursing through her system with his gentle, calming gestures of comfort.

Eventually, she uncurls her legs from where they have been pulled up against her chest and rolls over onto her back. Her shirt clings to her skin with the clammy dampness of cold sweat. Kaidan threads his fingers through her hair, unsticking the strands that have glued themselves to her face.

“You want to talk about it?” he asks, his voice soft and uncertain.

“It’s nothing,” she lies. “Just dreams.”

“Yeah, but most dreams don’t make you wake up with a panic attack.” The concern in his eyes and the downward turn of his mouth make Shepard’s heart ache with the knowledge of how much he loves and cares about her.

“Flashbacks, then. Or… God, I don’t know.” She stares up at the ceiling, scrubbing the heels of her hands across her eyes. Only now does she realize that Kaidan has turned on the bedside lamp. The dim light throws strange shadows across the room, making the normally comfortable space seem unfamiliar.

He doesn’t press her further on the matter, instead turning to more practical issues. “Do you need me to get you anything?”

“Water would help.” Her throat is dry, and the dull, persistent ache in her head lingers. “Use the mug on my desk. It should be clean.”

Kaidan retrieves her mug and fills it up at the water filter. He returns, handing the mug to Shepard. She sits up and takes a hesitant sip, careful not to spill on herself. The cool liquid soothes her headache, and so she quickly gulps down the rest of its contents.

“Sorry for waking you up,” she says. She’s turning into him now, apologizing for things that she shouldn’t really be apologizing for.

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures her.

She sets the mug down on the bedside table when she has finished drinking. “It was… It started off about Akuze,” she admits. The words spill out of her mouth unprompted, spurred on by the quiet voice in her head that reminds her that she shouldn’t keep everything bottled up.

“That’s where… your unit was killed?” Kaidan hedges his response with a question to mark his uncertainty of whether he should push the topic further.

Shepard nods. “We were supposed to investigate an abandoned pioneer settlement. Just another routine mission. We ended up having to make camp for the night, and… There was a thresher maw. It attacked. Most people didn’t even stand a chance. I’d never seen complete and utter slaughter like that before. I don’t think I’ve seen it since.” She swallows. She’s not used to talking about Akuze. The only people who she has told about that disastrous mission are her therapists out of sheer necessity, along with Chakwas when she’d inquired about Shepard’s psychological history. “My superior officer on that mission, Commander Ryan, he and I were close. He was pretty much my mentor before Anderson took an interest in me, and we had… I guess you could say there was a lot of history between us.”

“You’ve never mentioned him before,” Kaidan notes.

“Yeah. It’s, um, kind of a hard thing to talk about, with everything that happened.” Talking about the events on Akuze is difficult enough, but to add the specific details about the friend and mentor that she lost on that day is often too much for her to bear. “He saved my life when the thresher maw was about to attack me. We were the only two left in the end, and he was determined to take it out to avenge everyone who we’d lost. He told me that no matter what, I had to make sure that I made it to the landing zone. I said  that we should escape together, but I think at that point he’d already accepted that he was a dead man. I… I wasn’t used to leaving people behind back then.” The sentiment of “and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it” remains unspoken.

Kaidan takes hold of her hand, squeezing it gently. He doesn’t say anything, but the gesture gives her enough strength to continue on.

“I wasn’t going to disobey orders, so I ran to the landing zone and called for an evac. And everyone called me a hero for surviving, but all I felt like was a coward. They shouldn’t have been praising me because I didn’t do anything. Ryan was the one who took down the thresher maw. He was the one who avenged the loss of his unit. All I did was run away.” Shepard clenches her right hand into a fist to keep it from shaking. “Sometimes I wonder whether I deserved to survive on that day. Or any of the other times that I could have died.”

“Of course you did,” Kaidan says in immediate reassurance. “You shouldn’t ever think that you didn’t deserve to survive something. And believe me, I know how bad survivor’s guilt can be. I know how hard it is for you. But you’re probably one of the strongest people that I know. The fact that it’s you out of everyone in the galaxy who’s leading this war effort shows just how special you are.”

“I’m not special.” Her words echo what she had said to Commander Ryan nine years ago when she had asked him what made her so special that he wanted her to survive. He had told her that if she doesn’t think that she deserved to survive, then she needs to earn the the strength to do so. She has tried to live by those words, some of the last words that he ever said to her, but even now she has moments of self-doubt. “I’ve been lucky, and I’ve had a lot of opportunities to prove myself to make people think that there’s something special about me. But I’m really no different from everyone else in the end. I’m just…” She trails off there, unable to think of a proper way to finish her thought. She rubs her free hand across her face once more in a silent gesture of defeat.

“You’re special to me,” says Kaidan. “I know I’m only one person, and you’ll probably say that I’m biased in my opinion. But you’re so much more than what you have or haven’t accomplished. Like, for example, you, uh… You have a whole collection of model ships that mark the places you’ve been. You give your fish really unoriginal names. You can drink almost anyone under the table. You’re a really terrible dancer.”

At his last comment, she laughs in spite of herself. “I thought you were supposed to be making me feel better, not making fun of me.”

“I say it with love.” He squeezes her hand again.

She leans against him, taking a deep breath outward. “There’s more than… that, though. What happened on Akuze,” she admits. “More to the dream, I mean.” As much as she wants to end this with Kaidan’s loving words of reassurance, her desire to confess everything to him about the dream wins out. “The second part… it involved me dying.”

“Oh.” The single sound leaves his mouth a little hesitant, a little frightened, all those complicated emotions tied up in one syllable.

“It, um. It was kind of like how I actually died. You know, floating through space, running out of air. I don’t really remember what it felt like to die, but I guess my subconscious does, if that makes any sense.” When she laughs this time, the sound is largely humorless. “It’s funny. You’d think after already dying once, I wouldn’t be so afraid of it. But it still scares the shit out of me.”

“I think that’s natural,” Kaidan replies. “We have an instinct to survive, after all. Especially because of everything that we’ve been through. Everything that _you’ve_ been through.”

“Yeah, but…” A shaky breath escapes from between Shepard’s lips. She presses her forehead into his shoulder, not wanting to look at him when she admits her next words. “I’m not supposed to be afraid of anything.”

“Hey.” He shifts, wrapping his arms around her to hold her close. She doesn’t lift her head. “You’re not any less of a person for being afraid.”

“I’m Commander Shepard, though,” she says. “I’m supposed to be the one who will end this war. What would everyone say if they found out that I was… that I’m freaking out over a nightmare like this? That I can’t even sleep at night without always having some kind of bad dream?”

“They wouldn’t think anything less of you,” he replies. “You’re human, after all. I know half the time the galaxy treats you like, I don’t know, like you’re some kind of superhero, and I can’t even imagine how much pressure that puts on you. But I think they also understand that you’re nothing more than an ordinary person in the end. The people who matter, at least. Anyone who doesn’t understand that… well, their opinions shouldn’t count in the first place.”

A small smile breaks its way through Shepard’s expression. “Yeah. You’re probably right.” She nestles herself deeper into his embrace, taking a slow breath out. Her head rests against his chest, finding solace in his ever-so-slight movements as he breathes.

“You should get some sleep,” he says, the soft sound of his voice breaking through the silence. “If you think you’re ready, that is.”

“Yeah.” The faint ache of fatigue pounds somewhere behind her eyes. “Do you mind if I put some quiet music on? Just to, you know, give me something to focus on.”

“Go ahead.”

She slips out of his embrace so that she can light up her omni-tool to access the stereo system controls. After selecting a playlist of sufficiently relaxing music, she settles down under the blanket, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling as Kaidan turns off the bedside lamp. The room falls into darkness once more, but it is nowhere near as terrifying as it had been for her when she had awoken from the nightmare.

“Sleep well,” says Kaidan, lying down beside her. Even through the darkness, she sees the comfort in his eyes. “And don’t worry. I’ll be here beside you the whole time.”

“Thanks.” She rolls over to face away from him so that she can snuggle closer into his arms. His fingers run through her hair in a soothing motion that helps lull her to sleep.

“Good night,” he whispers, pressing a quick kiss into her hair. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She closes her eyes, focusing on the constant stimuli of the soft background music and Kaidan’s touch. This time, sleep is not something she fears, but rather something that she accepts without resistance. She lets the quiet embrace of exhaustion wash over her, and she slips away into a place where nightmares cannot touch her.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content Warning** : This chapter contains references to and discussion of attempted suicide/thoughts of suicide. If this is a sensitive subject for you, please proceed with caution. This warning applies throughout the remainder of the fic as well.

Shepard is always happy when the war brings her back in contact with old friends, but the context of these reunions, surrounded by the death and destruction of the Reapers, is equally bittersweet. When she brings a squad with her to investigate a Reaper presence at an Ardat-Yakshi monastery, she’s a little apprehensive, remembering the last time she’d had an interaction with an Ardat-Yakshi. The familiar presence of Samara sets her worries at ease, however, along with the discovery that most of the Ardat-Yakshi in the monastery are harmless. The greater concern are the husks and banshees, courtesy of the Reapers, that are swarming the monastery.

As always, Shepard cannot escape the sacrifices of others around her, although in this case the sacrifice thankfully does not come from her own crew, but rather from one of Samara’s own daughters. With the sound of the exploding bomb that takes out most of the monastery and the adversaries within, along with Rila and the detonator she’d held in her hands, Shepard is momentarily back on Virmire, watching the explosion that had killed Ashley. She reaches out to touch Falere’s shoulder in an automatic motion of comfort as she watches the asari grieve her sister’s sacrifice, and she wonders when exactly she became the one to give comfort in these moments. For most of her life it has been the other way around. But she knows Falere’s pain, knows what it feels like to be forced to walk away and leave someone to die. While dragging her away from Rila moments before the bomb went off, Shepard understands a little more of why Commander Ryan had told her to run on Akuze.

Outside the wreckage of the monastery, Shepard watches Samara and Falere speak from a distance, not wanting to intrude upon the conversation between mother and daughter. However, when she sees Samara take out her gun with the statement of “The Code demands that an Ardat-Yakshi cannot live outside a monastery that no longer exists,” she knows she has to intervene. Samara’s justicar code is important for her to abide by, certainly, and Shepard doesn’t pretend to know much about the justicars apart from what she has learned from Samara. What she does know is that from her own human perspective, killing one’s grieving daughter out of a black-and-white view of justice is unacceptable, and so she rushes forward.

“What are you doing?” she demands.

“I’m sorry, Shepard.” Samara’s voice retains its usual serene tone, made calm by centuries of wisdom and experience. “By the justicar’s code, there is only one way to save Falere.”

“Mother, no!” Falere exclaims in a desperate plea.

Samara raises her gun, and Shepard initially thinks that she is going to aim it at Falere. Instead, she points it at her own head. Shepard’s heart lurches, her pulse pounding out a rapid beat of panic. A sharp gasp leaves her throat, and initially she is rooted to the spot, unable to prevent the terrible scene from playing out before her eyes. Samara opens her mouth to speak, but she can only get out half-formed words before Shepard’s adrenaline kicks in. She dashes behind Samara, seizing hold of her arm to pull the gun away from her head. Samara struggles against her grip, but Shepard maintains a strong grasp on her arms. She manages to get a hold on Samara’s gun and pries it out of her hands, tossing it to the side. It hits the ground with a clatter.

“Let. Go.” Samara’s response is slow, deliberate, dangerous--not a yell or a cry, but a command with deceptive calmness behind it. Nevertheless, Shepard hears an echo of her own voice from long ago when she struggled against her own restraint that prevented her from following through with reckless decisions.

“What are you doing?” she repeats, asking the same question that she had posed when she’d seen Samara take out the gun.

“Fulfilling the Code,” Samara replies. For her, this answer is sufficient, but as much as Shepard respects her choices, she is not going to let Samara give up like this.

“By throwing your life away?” she retorts.

“I won’t kill my last daughter.” Samara turns to face her, and the pain visible in the pale blue depths of her eyes makes Shepard’s heart break. In those eyes, she sees not the strong woman who she has come to greatly respect over the past year, but rather a devoted mother who would rather face her own death than have her child die. Shepard thinks of her own mother, willing to put her life in danger to keep her safe during the batarian raid. The willingness of sacrifice is honorable, but in this situation, it is not the only answer.

“You won’t have to,” Falere says, speaking the exact words on Shepard’s mind. Samara’s expression softens at the sound of her daughter’s voice, and so Shepard lets her free of her restraint, allowing her to approach Falere. She returns back to where Kaidan and Liara stand to let them talk in relative privacy. Kaidan throws her a questioning glance, a silent inquiry of _Are you okay?_ In response, she merely gives him a brief nod of affirmation.

Once Samara and Falere have come to an understanding, with Falere’s promise to stay and rebuild the monastery and Samara’s agreement to help in the fight against the Reapers, Shepard calls Cortez to pick up her and her companions in the shuttle. She stands waiting in the smoky air of the monastery courtyard while she awaits his arrival, and the image of Samara’s attempted suicide remains at the forefront of her mind. The thought of it makes her heartbeat quicken again, and so she takes a deep breath to calm herself. She starts counting backward from one thousand to focus her thoughts, but she only reaches nine hundred and forty-one before Kaidan approaches her.

“You sure you're okay?” he asks. If they were in private, he would accompany his question with light touches to calm her. In the field, however, they are comrades, not lovers, which makes his concern for her strictly professional.

She nods in response. The quiet breath that escapes from between her lips, however, does nothing to assure him of her untroubled mental state. “Just a little shaken up,” she replies, giving him a partially truthful response.

“Everyone’s safe. The Reapers have been driven off for now,” he reminds her. “I don’t think it went down the way that any of us wanted to, but…” He trails off there, interrupted by the soft sound of approaching footsteps.

“Shepard,” Samara says. “May I speak with you before you leave, if you do not mind?”

“Yeah, sure.” She casts a glance at Kaidan, and he nods for her to go ahead. She and Samara leave to find a secluded spot within the area of the courtyard, away from where the others can hear them.

“I feel as if I did not adequately express my thanks to you,” Samara begins without further preamble. “Despite my determination to adhere to the Code, you did not let me follow through with my actions. Although my way of life forces me to see many situations in black and white terms, you remind me that there are absolutes that lie outside of such a strict view of justice. My question, however, is how you were able to stand against me without fear of my reaction.”

“Because I know what it feels like to be in that place,” Shepard replies. Her voice is soft, and her next words carry the slight waver of vulnerability. “A long time ago, I was in a similar position. I’d lost so much that I thought there was no other option besides giving up. I wanted everything to stop, to not have to feel the pain of it all anymore. Except for me, it wasn’t with a gun to my head. It was a bottle of pills.” She has shifted in a subconscious motion to hug herself for support, drawing herself inward in an instinctive response to sharing a piece of her past that she has told almost no one outside of mental health professionals, not even Kaidan.

Samara moves closer to her. She reaches out to put a hand on Shepard’s shoulder, looking at her with earnest eyes. “I am sorry to hear that, Shepard. However, your strength to persevere past that moment is admirable and one of the bravest things that you could have done. And I am glad that you were able to tell that story to me. When so much is expected of you, admitting your darkest moments can be one of the hardest things to do.”

“I’m not as strong as you are,” Shepard confesses. “You’re always able to keep yourself together. Stay calm no matter what the situation. I--well, I’m good at pretending that I can keep myself together. But half the time I feel like I’m doing nothing but pretending. The galaxy sees me as a hero, but I’m not as strong as they think I am. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Centuries of experience that humans unfortunately are not able to attain,” says Samara. “An unhelpful answer, perhaps, but I am sure you will find your own ways to inspire strength within yourself. I have seen you inspire countless people in the year that I have known you. One cannot give that kind of strength to others if they do not possess it themselves.”

“I--thanks.” Samara’s words are no different from what others have told her when she admits her insecurities to them, but they mean a great deal to her regardless. “You know, over the years I’ve befriended a lot of people that I’d never expect, and I never expected that I’d end up calling an asari justicar my friend. I’m glad that I got to know you when you were a part of my crew. And I, uh, I’ve never said this until now, but after spending time with you last year… I’ve come to think of you as almost like a mother to me.” Shepard casts her eyes downward at this statement, but when Samara’s hold on her shoulder tightens, she looks up at her once more.

Samara’s expression softens, her defined features giving way to a combination of joy and surprise--a face utterly touched by Shepard’s words. She pulls Shepard into an embrace, an unexpected gesture of affection that she doesn’t expect. When she lets go, her tranquil eyes shine with the gentle gleam of solace.

“I may not have known your mother,” Samara replies, “but if she was anything like you, I know that she must have been a brave and caring woman.” Her hands remain on Shepard’s shoulders, her touch distinctly parental. “And so I would be truly honored to consider you as my daughter, Shepard.”

“River,” says Shepard quietly.

Samara does not say anything response to this, perhaps not understanding her meaning. She removes her hands from Shepard’s shoulders, her head tilted slightly to the side in confusion.

“My first name,” Shepard adds in clarification. “I mean, you don’t have to use it. I, um, I actually don’t really like people calling me by my first name anymore. But I think you deserve to know it.”

“I shall honor your wishes, then.” Samara nods in acknowledgement. “The river, a body of water that flows from a source to another body of water. In many human mythologies, it represents the unity of the universe and human life itself. Your parents named you well.”

“I never liked it much,” Shepard admits. She barely associates herself with the name anymore, casting it off as something that she no longer needs. The last person to call her by her first name was Commander Ryan, and even he reverted to calling her Shepard most of the time when she had been serving under him.

Silence falls between them. “Your shuttle will be arriving soon,” Samara says finally. “I wish you all the best on your future endeavours.”

“Thank you.” Shepard looks back at where Kaidan and Liara stand. She does not yet hear the sound of the incoming shuttle, which gives her a few more minutes to regroup with them before departing.

“A final thing,” Samara says. “The human biotic with you. You care about him deeply.”

Of course Samara’s perceptiveness would extend so far as to realize Shepard’s love for Kaidan. “Yeah, I do,” she replies. “He… he’s someone very important to me.”

“Then you must never take his love for granted.” When Samara looks up on her, her eyes are all at once serious and gentle. “Cherish the time that you have with him. In times of conflict, we need to be able to hold on to those whom we love.”

“I know. And I will,” Shepard assures her. “After everything we’ve been through, I’m not going to let any of the moments I have with him slip away.”

“Then be well, Shepard. May the goddess guide you.”

“We’ll see each other again,” says Shepard in a final promise before she walks away from Samara, leaving the ruined monastery behind with a larger sense of hope than she has initially possessed.

Back on the ship, she begins her normal post-mission routine by taking off her armor and heading straight to her shower. Kaidan has started joining her in the shower after they’ve been out in the field together, not out of intimacy but rather convenience. Even with the two of them huddled together under her showerhead, the shower is of better quality than what he would have in the crew bathrooms, and if she’s going to permit him to use her shower, they might as well use it together to conserve the hot water. But perhaps there is a sense of intimacy in it after all, she thinks as they help each other wash their backs, cleansing away the sweat and grime that builds up under their armor.

When Kaidan passes the washcloth across her left shoulderblade, she winces in pain, a sharp gasp escaping from between her lips. “Everything all right?” he inquires.

“Yeah. Just a little sore there. I must’ve tweaked it or something.” She rolls her shoulder tentatively to test the extent of the pain. The sharp burst of discomfort draws out another small noise of pain from her.

“Can I...?” he asks, and she nods in response. His hands gently probe the sore area. “Yeah, I think I feel a knot there. I can massage it out for you if you want.”

“You have any experience in massaging, or are you just going to make it worse?” she asks.

“Not a lot. But enough to know that I feel good about asking you to trust me on this.”

“There’s not a lot that I wouldn’t trust you with,” says Shepard.

“Good to know.” He bends his head down to kiss her shoulder, and in response she murmurs in appreciation.

They finish showering and dry themselves off. Shepard half-redresses, leaving off her shirt to give Kaidan better access to her back. She lies face-down on the bed. The mattress shifts beneath her as Kaidan moves to kneel above her, gently pressing down on her back with his hands until he finds the sensitive spot on her shoulderblade.

“That good?” he asks.

“A little more pressure,” she replies. “Mm. That’s better.”

Kaidan kneads his hands against her back, relieving the tension and stress surrounding the injured muscle. The faint ache of pain remains, but it is the good sort of pain, not anything that makes her feel uncomfortable.

“So, that Samara,” Kaidan says. “She’s… wow. I mean, I’ve seen asari fight before, and I know how powerful their biotics can be, but she’s on an entirely new level.”

“Yeah. The way she fights, you’d never guess she’s almost a thousand years old. I’m glad I got to see her, even though things… you know. Were kind of rough there for a little bit.”

“You seem to have a lot of respect for her,” he notes. He continues to press down on her shoulderblade. “Want me to keep going here, or move someplace else?”

“Go down a little.” She hasn’t expected him to give her a full back massage, but after all the stress that she has been under throughout the course of war, having a form of relaxation that isn’t as strenuous as sex is a nice release. “Yeah, I’m glad I got to know Samara. She’s the kind of person who doesn’t talk much about herself, but once you get to know her, you realize how much she’s gone through and the lengths she’s willing to go to do what has to be done.”

“Kind of sounds like someone else I know.” Kaidan chuckles briefly.

Shepard can only assume that he is referring to her, but from her own perspective the comparison falls flat. Kaidan can hardly say that she has been through a lot, because even though he knows the basics of her personal history, there is so much more that he has no idea about. She may have opened up to him about Akuze, but the darkest period of her life--the two years following Mindoir--remains closed off to him. Although those years are a faraway part of her past now, the struggles that she went through at that time were essential to making her the person she is today.

“It’s a strange thing to find in a comrade,” Shepard says, “but I started to see her as kind of a maternal figure.” The ghost of Samara’s embrace remains around her, reminding her that even if her biological family is long gone, she has made her own family out of the Normandy’s crew, past and present. “I mean, I think about the kind of people I have as role models. Superiors, comrades, leaders. Definitely didn’t think I’d be including an asari justicar in that. But there’s a lot of people I’ve come across that I didn’t initially think I’d end up becoming so close to.”

“I hope you don’t consider me as one of those. Someone who you didn’t think you’d become close to, I mean.” Kaidan shifts his hands downward to massage the middle of her back. She sighs in contentment in response.

“You were a subordinate,” she replies. “I expected to care about you as someone under my command. Definitely not fall in love with you. Not that I’m complaining, though.”

They don’t say anything further, and a voice coming through Shepard’s comm interrupts the brief silence that has fallen between them. “Commander,” says Traynor. “You have an incoming message from Admiral Hackett on the vid comm.”

“I’ll be right down, Traynor.” Rather than get up immediately, however, she lies motionless on her bed, savoring a few final seconds of peace before she has to deal with reports and future missions. After the moment has passed, she returns to business.

“Should’ve taken care of all my communication before relaxing,” she says, running a hand through her still-damp hair. She gets up from the bed and finishes dressing herself. At least after talking to Hackett she can make her rounds to the rest of her crew without worrying about smelling like sweaty battle armor.

“I should get back to work too,” Kaidan replies. “I know you’re going to have reports and stuff to deal with, but let me know if you’re free later so we can, uh, finish this up.”

“Will do,” she promises him.

She departs from the cabin, ready to move forward with whatever tasks loom on the horizon.


	14. Chapter 14

The top drawer of Shepard’s bedside table contains one of the best-kept secrets of her life, an envelope of items from her past that she’d once clung to but now keeps out of reach out of fear of losing the only physical reminders she has of those who are lost. Ever since storing these items in a safe place, she brings them out only during moments when nobody else is around. She is not exactly ashamed of holding on to things that remind her of the past, but having anyone else see these items will only lead her to having to talk about the parts of her history that she has never been able to discuss with any amount of ease.

On this particular occasion, the envelope comes out in the aftermath of yet another bittersweet victory with the dual outcomes of success and sacrifice. The success in this case is the quarians regaining their homeworld and establishing a cease-fire with the geth, but it comes with the price of Legion’s sacrifice in order to spread the intelligence that he has gained throughout the geth collective. Shepard is not sure how many more sacrifices she will be able to take before this war is over. She acknowledges that those who have given their lives have done so to make sure that she and the rest of the galaxy survive, but that knowledge does not make the loss of her friends and comrades any easier to deal with. Her job as a soldier is to protect others even at the cost of her own life, and yet she has never gotten used to others sacrificing their lives for her.

Shepard shakes three items out of the envelope. Two of them are the only things that she has left of her life on Mindoir: a printed photograph of her with her parents and a card that her mother had given her on her sixteenth birthday. They are well-worn from the times that she used to hide them away in her armor when she went out on missions, and she’s honestly surprised that they survived her death. The third item is a tarnished gold chain with a small cross on it, which Commander Ryan had told her to pass on to his sister directly before giving her his final order to retreat. His sister had ended up giving it right back to her, however, and Shepard is glad to have the physical reminder of Ryan, as much pain as it brings to her.

She winds and unwinds the chain around her finger. How different would her circumstances be if Ryan had not died on Akuze? Would she have even risen to become the commanding officer of the Normandy and the first human Spectre? Perhaps not: she had not become Anderson’s protegee until after Ryan’s death, and she has Anderson to thank for her current position. She has always thought of Mindoir as the single event that has defined her course in life the most, but Akuze has shaped her path to almost the same degree. Briefly, she wonders how Ryan would have reacted to a war of this scale. The only conclusion that she can draw is that he would handle the pressure and sacrifices a lot better than she could. He may have not been perfect, but having learned half of what it means to be a leader from him, she is certain that he would be a far better leader in this war. He’d be proud of her accomplishments, though, especially how she has recently taken down a Reaper almost single-handedly with no harm to her beyond a few cuts and bruises.

The door to her cabin opens, startling her. She has time to return the photograph and card to their envelope, but with the chain of the necklace wrapped around her finger, she does not have time to hide it. Instead, when Kaidan approaches her, the chain hangs down from her finger, the cross slowly rotating before its momentum stops.

“I didn’t know you were coming up,” she says to Kaidan.

“I guess I should’ve let you know. Sorry.” He sits beside her on the bed. Shepard surreptitiously pushes the envelope further out of his view. “I thought you weren’t religious,” he continues, nodding to the necklace that she has not been able to conceal from him.

“It’s not mine.” She closes her fist around the chain. The cool metal presses against the palm of her hand. “It’s--well, it was--Commander Ryan’s.”

“Oh.” He shifts to sit closer to her, hesitating as if about to make physical contact with her but ultimately deciding against it. “Thinking about him?”

“Yeah.” She lets out a quiet breath, a not-quite sigh. “Usually end up thinking about him whenever I end up, you know, losing someone.” Her hands brace themselves against her knees, and she trains her eyes downward. “I think about how I wouldn’t even be here right now if it weren’t for him. And not just because he saved me on Akuze.”

One of the things that Shepard likes best about Kaidan is that he never pushes or prods her for information, especially about the topics that she rarely talks about. Instead, he places a hand on top of her own hand resting on her left knee in a silent gesture of reassurance that inspires her to continue on.

“Our history goes way back beyond the time that we served together,” she says. “He was one of the soldiers who rescued me on Mindoir. He--” She breaks off, the memory of what happened sixteen years making her heartbeat quicken in the instinctive reaction of _why are you thinking about this?_ “The first time he saw me, I was this scrawny kid going full-on bloodlust on a batarian that had ambushed me. He pulled me off the batarian, and I don’t really remember much of what happened after that. Next thing I knew, I’d woken up on an Alliance ship.”

“Did you have further contact with him after that?” asks Kaidan. “Or did you only find out that he was the one who saved you once you were serving together?”

“No, that was really just the beginning,” she explains. “After I got off Mindoir, I ended up being sent to an Alliance facility on Arcturus Station for kids who had been orphaned in conflicts in the colonies. The kind of place where most of the kids ended up being dumped into the foster system after a while, except for the, you know, _difficult_ ones. Ryan stayed on Arcturus with me as my personal guard at the facility. I guess I needed one, because they classified me as ‘high risk’ and ‘potentially unstable’ because of what I’d been through and the ways that I was reacting to it. So… that was mainly how I got to know him.”

Kaidan does not say anything in response. His thumb traces a path over the knuckles on her left hand, a calming motion that lets her know that he is listening.

“He was the only one who was really there for me during that time,” Shepard says. “All the other adults saw me as just another victim. But of course I didn’t handle things well. I started doing all kinds of dangerous and destructive things. It wasn’t as if the other kids at the facility were good influences, either.”

She hesitates, wondering how much she should elaborate on the details from that dark period. She doesn’t even know where she would begin if she were to tell him everything. “Worst thing I probably did was try to self-medicate. I was seeing all kinds of counselors and therapists, but I refused to cooperate with them, so I wasn’t able to get the meds that I needed. And some of the other kids ran this miniature drug ring of mostly prescription drugs, sometimes red sand and hallex too. So that’s how I tried to deal with things. Never really got addicted to any of it, but I, you know. Dabbled.”

“Wow. I, uh… I had no idea it was that bad for you. I’m so sorry." Kaidan squeezes her hand more tightly. The look he gives her is not quite pitying, but rather quietly supportive in response to her telling him about her past demons.

“And of course Ryan didn’t put up with any of it,” she continues on. “I’d come back to my room high or drunk or both, and when he’d come in to check on me he’d always know. He wasn’t afraid to be harsh with me, either. Like there was more than one time when he’d literally pick me up and throw me in the shower until I sobered up.”

The memory of this image is now almost amusing to her, imagining her younger self kicking and screaming in protest as Ryan throws her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and dumps her fully clothed into a cold shower. Of course, it had been far from funny in the moment, but it also taught her that the strength of a marine is not to be underestimated.

“I really hated him sometimes,” she admits. “Can’t imagine how he dealt with all the crap I pulled. I didn’t really stop to think about how things were from his perspective back then.”

“I’m guessing things changed between you two, though,” Kaidan says.

“Yeah. Eventually I had kind of a wake-up call and realized that things were only going to get worse if I kept being self-destructive. Ryan helped me get back on the right track. I started cooperating with my doctors and therapists, and Ryan and I ended up becoming close. He was actually the one who inspired me to enlist, even though he wasn’t too happy when I told him that that’s what I wanted to do.”

This version of events, however, simplifies the situation that had caused her turnaround. The “wake-up call” had been waking up in the hospital after her suicide attempt and realizing that she wanted to continue living, no matter how broken she considered herself to be. As much as she trusts Kaidan, though, she doesn’t want to mention that part to him. Maybe someday she will, but right now she doesn’t want him to respond to that information with the pity that she knows he will give her.

“But you must have gotten back in contact with him once you were in the military,” Kaidan says. “Since he was on Akuze with you.”

“Yeah. I eventually ended up being assigned to his unit. Thought it was only a coincidence at first, but he eventually admitted that he specifically requested me. Considering our history, I’m honestly surprised his request for me was approved.”

“Well, they let us serve together, don’t they?” Kaidan points out. He tightens his hold around her hand as he speaks. Shepard leans into him, bumping their shoulders together in a subtle display of affection. “Then again, us being Spectres puts us outside of Alliance control, technically.”

“And we don’t exactly go around publicizing ‘Hey, did you know we’re sleeping together?’ to the Alliance,” Shepard replies. “Whereas they would have known that there was a connection between Ryan and me. Anyway, I ended up assigned to his unit on my first posting after I’d finished N-School. I didn’t even know I was under his command at first. I remember when I first found out. There were some guys in the unit who were real assholes, and since I was the youngest commissioned woman in the unit and a biotic, I was kind of an easy target for them. They’d say all kinds of awful things to me--you know, ‘whose dick did you have to suck to get this posting,’ stuff like that.”

“You didn’t let them get away with talking to you like that, did you?” When she looks at Kaidan, his brow is furrowed in anger. Of course he’d be protective of her even regarding things that happened years ago.

“Most of the time I ignored it, to be honest.” Shepard has had to deal with things far worse than verbal harassment, and at least in the military she can easily prove to those who do harass her that she is not someone who they should mess with. “But at the time I’m talking about, Ryan came in and told them to cut it out.” She can still remember the way that Ryan would bark out threats to anyone who stepped out of line. Even now, she feels like she channels him a little bit whenever she has to use stern words to neutralize a situation. “It was the first time I’d seen him since I left for basic training once I was out of Alliance custody. I didn’t realize how happy I would be to see him.”

She allows herself a moment of nostalgia, returning to the moment of her reunion with Ryan. In some ways, nothing had changed between them, but she had also grown from a girl who needed protecting into a woman who was now a fully-fledged soldier in her own right. Ryan’s words about how proud he was of her remain with her even now.

“We actually didn’t have a chance to serve together for very long, though,” she says. “Our first major mission… well, it was Akuze. And you already know the story of what happened there.”

Kaidan rubs her shoulder gently, anticipating the surge of memories that she doesn’t want to revisit. “I’m glad you told me more about him,” he says. “Especially because I know it’s not easy for you. Just one more thing.” He hesitates, but not long enough for Shepard to question him. “You, uh, don't have to answer this if you don’t want to. You know, tell me ‘That’s out of line, Kaidan,’ or whatever. But, I don’t know, the way you talk about Commander Ryan… Did you ever, you know, have feelings for him?”

“I don’t think that’s out of line to ask.” The question, however, takes Shepard to a complicated place where a simple answer of “yes” or “no” doesn’t suffice. She struggles to figure out how to articulate her response before speaking. “But to give you an answer... I thought I did. When I was at the Alliance facility, I’d lost everything, and most of the other adults there didn’t even care. They only saw me as just another troubled teenager that they were stuck with. All I wanted was to feel, well, wanted. And Ryan gave me that feeling. I tried to kiss him once back then, but he knew that there was a line that he shouldn't cross, so he put a stop to it. He made it clear that nothing could happen between us and pretty much turned me down in the nicest way possible. Nothing else happened after that. He was more like an older brother to me than anything else.”

“I see.” Kaidan nods slowly, deliberately. If Shepard didn’t know better, she’d suspect that he’s asking this question out of some sort of strange jealousy toward a man who is long dead. “I, uh, was just curious. Sorry.”

“You don’t ever have to be sorry for asking me anything,” Shepard says. “Trust me, if anything you say is out of line, I’ll let you know. This is the kind of thing that I need to talk about more often.” She has heard the same words countless times from the various therapists that she has had over the years: although she is very good at utilizing physical outlets to deal with her issues, she needs to make use of verbal outlets more often. Now that she has Kaidan as someone to love and trust, she finally feels as if she can tell him about the things that she often keeps silent about.

“That’s good.” Kaidan says. “I’ll always be here to listen if you need to talk.”

“Thanks.” Hearing his words is like listening to an echo of Shepard’s own voice whenever her chats with her crew inevitably turn into finding out more about their personal lives. She thinks back to the words that Ryan had once told her: “ _That’s what a commander does. We listen when we have to, and we kick ass when we need to_.” She opens the palm of her hand where she continues to hold Ryan’s cross necklace. The chain and cross have left an imprint into her skin from how hard she has been clenching her hand around it. Ryan would definitely be proud of how effective of a leader she has become, she decides.

The sound of her comm brings the flow of their conversation to a halt. “Shepard,” comes the sound of Tali’s voice. “Are you busy right now?”

Shepard glances over at Kaidan, and he nods as if telling her to go ahead. “I can make some time,” she replies. “What do you need?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something. I’m at the memorial wall on the crew deck right now if you want to meet me.”

“Sure thing.” It doesn’t take much for Shepard to figure out what her conversation with Tali will entail. Even though Tali and the rest of the quarian race have now regained their homeworld, she is likely feeling the effects of Legion’s sacrifice as strongly as Shepard is.

“Thank you, Shepard. Tali out.”

Shepard stands up, discreetly sliding the cross necklace into the envelope that she has taken it from and returning it to its hiding place. If Kaidan notices any of this, he does not say anything about it.

“I’ll be back soon,” she says to him in farewell. In response, he brushes his hand against hers as she passes by.

Down on the crew deck, she finds Tali in front of the memorial wall. The names of all the lost crew members rest upon the wall, mostly those who had not survived the destruction of the original Normandy, but also the close comrades whose voices haunt Shepard’s dreams: Ashley, Mordin, Thane. Shepard is not sure whose idea it was to create the memorial wall, but she is glad it exists as a way to remember those who were not lucky enough to survive everything the Normandy’s crew has endured.

Upon hearing Shepard’s approach, Tali turns away from the wall to face her. With Tali’s face perpetually obscured by her helmet, the eye contact doesn’t mean much except for the dim light of her eyes visible through the mask.

“I hope I wasn’t bothering you in the middle of anything,” she says to Shepard.

“Talking to my crew is never a bother. What’s up?”

“All of this is just… very strange.” Tali shakes her head in a gesture of disbelief. “My people have finally reclaimed our homeworld, something that we’ve only dreamed of for over three hundred years. And I always thought that we’d have to destroy the geth for that to happen, but here I am, mourning the death of the geth who allowed us to initiate peace. I never thought something like this would happen.”

“Times like this, you learn to expect the unexpected,” Shepard replies. After the arrival of the Reapers, she finds that nothing really surprises her about this war anymore.

Tali turns her head back to the memorial wall. “You’re going to put Legion’s name up on this wall, right?” she asks, her voice growing noticeably softer.

“Of course I am,” Shepard assures her. “He was one of my crew. And the sacrifices of my crew deserve to be remembered, no matter whether they’re organic or synthetic.”

“I don’t want him to be forgotten,” Tali says. “My people have started to settle peace with the geth, and their aid to us in resettling Rannoch is something that I don’t think we could ever repay them for. And we couldn’t have done it without Legion. The geth don’t care about individual accomplishments, though. So what he did will just end up forgotten, won’t it?”

“Not if you don’t let it.” Shepard understands Tali’s worries all too well. “Sometimes history doesn’t remember things the way you want it to, but it’s what you make sure that people remember that counts in the end. I know what one person thinks doesn’t matter much, but sometimes all it takes is the small things. Like putting Legion’s name on this wall.” She gestures to the memorial wall in front of them.

Tali remains silent, not yet convinced. “Let me tell you a story,” Shepard continues on. Ordinarily she wouldn’t bring her own personal issues into conversations with her crew, but her recent discussion with Kaidan has kept open the floodgates that usually restrain her from talking about certain events in her life. “You might have heard that after I died, the Alliance wanted to make a special memorial to me on Akuze because of my supposed ‘brave and resilient actions’ there back in ’77. But the thing is that I’ve never considered myself the hero in what happened there. It was someone else who did all the heroics back then. I didn’t do anything but survive, but I became the one who everyone remembered in connection to that incident. I got really pissed off when I found out about the memorial, because if anyone was to get a memorial on Akuze, it would be the one who actually killed the thresher maw that slaughtered everyone, not me. So I’ve been trying to make sure that he’s the one who’s remembered for what happened there.”

“Sorry to hear about that.” Tali lays a hand on Shepard’s arm, a way for her to show support in the absence of sympathetic facial expressions. “Has it worked? You making sure the right person is remembered, I mean.”

“If we survive all of this, I’ll let you know. Right now, my first priority is making sure the Reapers get kicked back to wherever the hell they came from. Then I can worry about everything else.” She is straying from the topic at hand, and so she returns to give Tali the advice she has requested. “The point is, if you want Legion’s sacrifice to be remembered, then you have to make sure that history doesn’t forget him. With you on the Admiralty Board, I don’t think it’ll be that hard of a task.”

“I’m glad you’re so confident in me.” The response that Tali gives is not sarcastic in any way. With the lack of facial cues in quarians, they must instead rely on tone of voice and other displays of body language to convey emotion, and the undertones of Tali’s voice are purely humble in this situation. She turns her attention back to the wall where Legion’s name will be affixed in a few days’ time. “Keelah se’lai, Legion. I’ll always be thankful for what you did to help my people. And I’ll always be thankful to you too, Shepard.” Tali glances back to look at her. “To the quarians, you will always be a hero, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Thanks.” Shepard is used to hearing things like this by now, but she always appreciates such comments as a reminder of how much a difference her efforts to unite the galaxy are making.

When she takes her leave from Tali, she decides that she is going to believe in her words and press onward, no matter how many times she may doubt herself. Although the pressure to be everyone’s hero is something that has weighed on her ever since the start of this war, the relief and resolve that her actions give to people is more than enough reward. And for now, in these difficult times, that is everything she needs.


	15. Chapter 15

Despite all of the often reckless determination that Shepard possesses, she maintains enough of a sense of self-preservation to know when a retreat is necessary. As long as nobody is left behind in the process, she is more than willing to make that kind of call, but the problem comes when the situation is far more dire than a single squad being overwhelmed by hostiles. When the “hostiles” become “Reaper forces” and “a single squad” becomes “the planet Thessia,” the decision to retreat becomes much more difficult to make. She isn’t left with much choice, however, when Cerberus shows up and departs with the data that she has come to Thessia to secure. The necessity of her own survival means that her only option is to leave the planet, and she can barely bring herself watch the destruction that ensues as the Reapers decimate the heart of asari civilization.

Everything that happens once she returns to the Normandy passes by in a blur. Despite her initial instinct to delay her report to the asari councilor, her dread in having to admit that she has failed the mission is only going to grow if she postpones it further. She therefore goes to the comm room to respond to Councilor Irissa’s transmission as soon as possible. The full repercussions of the lost data don’t hit her until she hears the councilor say that plans must be put in motion to ensure the continuity of civilization itself. Shepard’s quiet apology doesn’t even reach Councilor Irissa’s ears before the transmission cuts out, leaving Shepard alone in the silence of the comm room.

She grips the edges of the console to steady herself as her legs tremble beneath her. A storm of ugly emotions forms itself inside her chest, gradually inflating like a balloon until she feels like her chest is ready to burst. Her knuckles strain white against the console before she lets go and leaves the comm room. She walks as if on auto-pilot, focused only on her objective of reaching her cabin before she breaks down in front of her crew.

Once she is inside the elevator, she repeatedly presses the button indicating Deck 1. She wants nothing more than to speed up the time until she can shut herself away from the rest of the world until she can quell the unbearable feelings of defeat and helplessness that threaten to overwhelm her. The elevator, however, does not comply with her wishes.

“As I have told you on previous occasions, Shepard,” comes the sound of EDI’s voice, “repeatedly pressing the button will not cause you to reach your destination any faster.”

“I know.” Shepard’s response is more snappish than she intends. She moves her finger away from the button and leans against the elevator wall, rubbing the heels of her hands against her eyes.

“Are you all right?” EDI inquires. “You are exhibiting signs of distress.”

Shepard does not respond. The elevator doors soon open, and she walks down the hall to enter her cabin. Once she is safely inside, she activates her omni-tool to turn off her comms, deactivate surveillance, and lock the door. She removes her armor and leaves it in a haphazard pile that she will have to take care of later, not wanting to deal with its maintenance at the moment. She enters the bathroom and shuts the door behind her, trying and failing to keep her breathing steady.

After turning on the shower, she peels off her underarmor, struggling with the tight fabric that sticks to her skin with sweat. She cannot find the energy to remove the rest of her clothing, and so she stands there wearing only her sports bra and underwear. The cool air of the bathroom, not yet warmed by the heat of the shower’s water, raises goosebumps on her bare skin.

The storm of emotions inside her has not abated and instead grows stronger the more she tries to resist it. She feels like she’s about to be swept away by a rushing current, desperately clinging to the safe space where she can keep herself afloat. Even the calm waters of deep breaths and focused thoughts cannot save her, though, and so she finds herself drowning anyway. A wave of dizziness hits her. She clutches the sides of the basin of the sink to hold herself upright.

When she catches a glimpse of her face in the mirror, she barely recognizes herself. It has been weeks since she has really looked at herself in the mirror, and she is shocked to see how exhausted and run-down she appears. Dark circles hang under her eyes, and her face has grown thinner, throwing her cheekbones into sharp relief. How can anyone believe in her as the one who will lead the war against the Reapers when she has been running herself ragged trying to hold herself and the rest of the galaxy together? _She_ certainly doesn’t believe in herself, not after what has happened on Thessia. Her failure has made it clear to her that she can’t keep pretending that everything will be all right, like she does whenever she thinks about Earth and reminds herself that the galaxy’s fleets will have gathered to take back humanity’s homeworld in no time at all. If the Reapers can overwhelm Thessia, home to one of the most advanced and revered civilizations in the galaxy, what is stopping them from tightening their hold on Earth and causing even more casualties? She suspects that she is the answer to her own question, but thinking about her role in this war only causes her anxiety levels to rise.

She closes her eyes, trying to mentally ground herself and tell herself not to panic. The more she thinks about how she cannot break down right now, however, the more her body reacts. Her breathing comes in shuddering gasps, and the constriction in her chest that developed when she was in the comm room persists. She trembles, cold sweat beading against her skin. Another bout of dizziness hits her, and so she tightens her grip on the sink. She squeezes her eyes shut against the tears that threaten to form, because _Commander Shepard doesn’t cry, damn it_ , but the tears fall anyway, rolling down her cheeks and falling into the basin of the sink.

Her brain registers the soft sound of a distant voice, the familiar sound of Kaidan saying her name. “Shepard?” he asks. “Are you in there?” He taps on the bathroom door. “Shepard…?”

She doesn’t open the door. Her feet remain stuck in place, unable to move, and so she remains hunched over the sink, feeling small and lost despite the constrained space of the bathroom.

And then, quietly: “River, please.”

Kaidan has never called her by her first name before. The use of the name that she has largely abandoned sets her further over the emotional edge. A torrent of sobs shakes her body, causing her to further relinquish the tenuous control that she has been able to hold over herself.

Before she fully processes what is happening, he has pulled open the door. The cessation of the constant sound of running water tells her that he has turned off the shower. When he approaches her, he doesn’t say anything, but the gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder alerts her to his presence. She turns to face him, collapsing into his arms to bury herself in his embrace. Kaidan holds her trembling body close to him. He rubs her back in a soothing motion that gradually calms her heaving sobs.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay. Breathe.”

She does, her irregular gasps of breath eventually slowing to the even sound of relaxed breathing. When she finally feels as if she has calmed down, she withdraws from his arms and sinks down to sit on the bathroom floor with her back against the wall and her knees pulled up against her chest. She runs her hands across her face, feeling the soft air of her exhale against her skin.

“Here,” Kaidan says, sitting down beside her and offering a wad of toilet paper to her in lieu of tissues. She takes it from him and blows her nose. Silence falls between them, with neither of them able to properly articulate the right words to say in the situation. Finally, Kaidan speaks again.

“You did the best that you could.”

Shepard shakes her head. Her hand balls into a fist, crumpling the wad of toilet paper. “All that means is that my best isn’t good enough. How can you say that I did my best when I couldn’t do anything? I--all I could do was sit back and watch when Kai Leng took off with the data. And now everything’s going to hell on Thessia, and I…” She trails off there. She pulls in her knees closer to her so that she can rest her forehead against them. “God, I can’t do this anymore, Kaidan. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” His words are encouraging but firm. “I know you, Shepard. You are strong and resilient, and you definitely don’t let failure slow you down. Think of all the lives you’ve saved over the course of this war alone. It’s more than anyone else in the galaxy could have done.”

“I couldn’t save all the asari who died today.” Shepard’s response comes out muffled, her face still buried in her knees. “It’s not enough. None of it is ever enough. And most of the galaxy thinks I’m the big hero who’s going to save everyone, but I’m not a hero. I… I’m fucking useless.”

“Look at me, Shepard.” When she doesn’t raise her head to acknowledge him,. he moves his hands to rest on either side of her face, forcing her to look up at him. The whiskey-brown depths of his eyes shine with seriousness. “You are _not_ useless. You’re only human. Sometimes things happen that are outside your control, but you can’t blame yourself for them. And sometimes the most you can do won’t be enough, but that’s okay.”

“It won’t always be okay,” Shepard says. Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.

“I know.” Kaidan closes his eyes and presses his forehead against hers, as if he has run out of things to say. The closeness between them comforts her regardless. No further words are spoken between them, and the only noise is the soft sounds of their breathing, almost synchronized due to their proximity to each other.

The ugly feelings of regret and self-doubt have not left Shepard completely, but when she moves away from Kaidan, they have been at least suppressed. Her head aches with the faint pain that comes after heavy crying. She stands up and goes over to the sink to splash some cold water onto the red blotches that have spread across her face.

“Oh, and, uh, in case you were wondering,” Kaidan says, “I hacked through your lock again to get in here. Sorry.”

His comment isn’t particularly funny, but the trace of a smile crosses her lips anyway. She catches her reflection in the mirror once more and sees the slight upward turn of her mouth. The small smile makes her features seem less tired and worn.

Kaidan stands up to join her at the sink. “You going to be okay?” he asks, touching a gentle hand to her waist.

“I don’t know,” she admits, deciding that she has to be honest with him. “But I’m going to keep going anyway, because that’s what I need to be doing right now.”

“You don’t have to jump right back into things if you don’t think you’re ready,” Kaidan says.

She shakes her head. “No. It’ll be fine. I’ll _make_ it fine.”

He presses his lips to her cheek in a gesture of combined comfort and encouragement. “What are you doing to do now?”

“I should probably shower,” she says. “And then I’m going to turn on my comm and… well, start dealing with all of this.” The bubble of anxiety in her chest rises again, but she forces it down.

“I’ll be out here if you need me.” Kaidan’s hand travels up from her waist to squeeze her shoulder in reassurance before leaving the bathroom.

Shepard turns on the shower once more and strips off her underclothes, moving to stand under the shower’s stream. She closes her eyes and turns her face upward to let the water run down her face. She breathes in, slowly counting to five before giving a deep exhale. With this breath she lets out all of the negative emotions that she feels, preparing herself to press onward with the war and the situation on Thessia.

Once she has finished showering and redressed herself, she turns on her comm, preparing for the onslaught of messages that she will have to attend to. Right on cue, she receives a call from Traynor.

“Commander, Admiral Hackett would like to speak to you at the vid comm. You also have important messages at your private terminal.”

“Thanks, Traynor. I’ll be down soon.”

With a brief word of farewell to Kaidan, she departs, returning to the comm room that not too long ago had been the place where her breakdown had begun. Now, as she enters and presses the button on the console of the vid comm to accept Hackett’s transmission, she has steeled herself to handle whatever situation comes her way even if she continues to waver in uncertainty regarding her own abilities.

“Admiral,” she says in greeting to him. “I… On Thessia, we...” She swallows hard, not sure how she is going to admit her failure to him.

“I already know about the situation on Thessia,” Hackett replies. His voice is reassuring, as if sensing her unease.

“I’m sorry, sir.” She looks down at the console in front of her, unable to look at the holographic projection of his face.

“Nobody is blaming you, Commander. There was nothing else that could have been done. The loss of the data is unfortunate, of course, but our work on the Crucible is still going strong. We haven’t lost hope yet.”

“That’s good to hear, sir.” She brings her gaze up to meet the piercing blue eyes of the most powerful man in the Alliance Navy, the one who has unhesitatingly supported her career over the years. It is due to his and Anderson’s efforts that she is even in this position, the first human Spectre heading the most crucial campaign that the Alliance has organized in years. She briefly wonders whether Anderson has heard about Thessia yet. Because of his efforts on Earth, communication with him is sporadic, but she is sure that he would be trying to contact her to ensure that she is handling herself well if he knew about Thessia.

“Is there any other reason you called?” she asks Hackett.

“I wanted to check in on you. I’m sure you’re going to be keeping busy over the next few days.”

“Yeah.” Shepard rubs a hand across her forehead. “Already got a mountain of emails to deal with, I’m sure.”

“Anything on your mind?” Hackett inquires. On the surface, his words are strictly business, but they carry an undertone of concern that she cannot ignore.

She hesitates for only the briefest moment before speaking. The lingering question of whether she can handle the enormity of the task that she has been given needles at her. With Hackett being one of her biggest supporters, he can give her an answer to the question of why she is the best person for this job.

“Actually,” she says, “if I may, Admiral, I have a personal question.”

He nods in approval. “Speak freely, Commander.”

“Why me?” The words that form the question are simple, but the sentiment behind them is far more complex. “Why put me in charge of all this?”

“Because,” Hackett replies, “you’re the only soldier in this whole damn navy who knows how to kill Reapers.”

“You just have to be smart and hope you get lucky.” Shepard deflects Hackett’s reasoning with a humble statement. “Anyone can figure it out.”

“Your dossier says otherwise, Shepard.” Although Hackett doesn’t smile, his eyes contain kindly encouragement. “You were trapped on Akuze all those years ago, and you were the only one to make it out alive. Back then, I saw more than just a soldier in the making.”

Shepard’s stomach clenches in an automatic reaction to him bringing up Akuze. “And because of that, you think I’m qualified to save the galaxy?” He knows how much of a sore subject it is for her to hear about her actions on Akuze being treated as heroism. She’d once told him, in the most professional way possible, that the only way that she would allow a new memorial to be placed on Akuze is if it was named in Commander Ryan’s honor.

A brief silence falls between them before Hackett speaks again. “Shepard, let me tell you something that I’ve learned the hard way,” he begins. “You can pay a soldier to fire a gun. You can pay them to charge the enemy and take a hill. But you can’t pay them to believe.”

“I don’t follow, sir,” Shepard says.

“When you went up against Sovereign, there was no good reason to believe you’d win. But your crew didn’t seem to care. They went along anyway. Your trip through the Omega-4 relay? That was a suicide mission if there ever was one. Yet there your crew was, standing beside you, proud to serve. Why? Because they believed in you. Their leader.” Hackett’s face is both serious and encouraging. “That’s what I need now. Where we’re taking them is liable to get pretty hairy, and I know you’re the only one who will get us to the other side.”

“Thank you for your confidence, sir.” Shepard has heard similar words thousands of times before, that she has something about her that is so charismatic that she could convince her crew to follow her to hell and back with no complaints. At a time like this, however, Hackett’s encouragement heartens her, reminding her that even if her faith in herself has diminished, the galaxy still has good reasons to believe in her. Perhaps it is too simple of a solution, but if Shepard is going to push herself onward, she needs to be able to set aside her insecurities that have surfaced.

“Anything else?” Hackett inquires.

Shepard shakes her head. “Nothing more, sir.”

“I’ll be awaiting any more updates you have. Hackett out.”

Shepard salutes in response. The image of Hackett fades away, leaving her alone once more. Unlike after the call from the Council, however, the world isn’t crashing down around her. Instead, Shepard is building herself up once more, and although her foundation may be shaky, it is strong enough for her to persevere.

She leaves the comm room, her confidence still shaken but not yet completely destroyed.


	16. Chapter 16

Everything continues to hurtle forward at full speed in the aftermath of Thessia. Shepard tasks EDI and Traynor with tracing the path of Kai Leng’s shuttle, her main priority being to deal with Cerberus. Liara, meanwhile, uses her Shadow Broker resources to help with the situation on Thessia as much as possible, primarily focusing on helping refugees. Shepard herself barely sleeps during the night cycle that passes after their departure from the asari homeworld, kept busy by reports and updates on progress. She only has time for three restless hours of sleep before her alarm wakes her, telling her that it is time to begin a new day.

In the morning, she holds a meeting in the war room with all essential crew members to discuss the changes in their situation now that Cerberus has progressed even further into the category of "actually a threat." She learns from EDI and Traynor that they have extrapolated the path of Kai Leng’s shuttle as far as the Iera system before it disappears. Shepard thanks them for their efforts, but the only thought on her mind is that the Iera system is where Horizon is located. After what happened last year, she is reluctant to return there, and yet Cerberus is leading her there anyway. She has no choice but to leave her personal issues aside and press forward, even when Kaidan, probably trying to be helpful to the crew, reminds everyone that when he’d been stationed on Horizon, Shepard had been the only Cerberus presence that had come to the colony. She hates that despite everything that has happened since then, the memories of the deep emotional pain that Kaidan caused her on Horizon continue to bother her. She’s supposed to be good at shutting these things out, especially because the two of them have reached a point of forgiveness on that issue.

After she has dismissed the meeting, she makes the rounds to the crew, checking on each of their individual progress. She deliberately avoids going to see Kaidan where he usually works in the observation lounge, even though she knows it’s childish of her to do so. She cannot postpone talking to him forever, though, and so she braces herself against her irrational fear that any conversation between her and Kaidan will turn ugly at the mere mention of Horizon.

“Hey,” he says to her when she enters the lounge. He’s working on something on his omni-tool, and he dismisses the interface to talk to her. “I haven’t seen you since the meeting. Figured you were busy.”

“Just checking on everyone,” Shepard replies.

A brief pause falls between them. Normally, she would regard this silence as an ordinary lull in the conversation as Kaidan mentally figures out what he’s going to say next. Now, though, her first thought is that there is a mutual sense of communicative awkwardness between them because of their reluctance to bring up Horizon.

“So, uh…” Kaidan clears his throat to break the hesitation between them. “Crazy that Kai Leng might be hiding out on Horizon of all places, huh? I mean, I didn’t think we’d ever end up there again, after…” He breaks off there.

“Don’t start, Kaidan.” Shepard’s muttered response leaves her mouth before she can stop it. She hasn’t intended to sound so harsh. Between her lack of sleep and everything that happened the previous day, she is at the end of her emotional rope, and she doesn’t have the patience to deal with skirting around issues like this.

“I wasn’t going to start anything.” Kaidan looks at her in confusion, his head tilted slightly to the side. “I mean, yeah, I think about what happened last year too. But I thought we’d moved past that. Maybe that’s not true.”

“It’s not a matter of having moved past it,” Shepard says. She has never for a moment doubted Kaidan’s honesty since he’d apologized for Horizon back when he’d been recovering in the hospital. Instead, she’s left in the uncomfortable position of not being able to figure out what exactly it is about returning to Horizon that makes her so uneasy. Usually analyzing her emotions from a distant, rational perspective helps her deal with them, but in this case, she is lost.

“Then what is it?” Kaidan asks. His gaze continues to be questioning, but under the surface she detects a hint of his frustration with her.

“I--I don’t know.” She averts her eyes away from him, wanting nothing more than to drop the issue between them and move on. She is fairly certain that Kaidan is not going to ignore whatever hesitation she holds on to, though, as much as she wants to dismiss everything with the poor excuse that she is too tired and irritable to discuss something like this right now.

“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” says Kaidan. He reaches forward as if he’s going to touch her, but he withdraws his hand at the last moment.

“I’m not afraid,” she retorts. His words, however, makes everything to fall into place. She’s held on to a certain amount of fear throughout this entire war, but this is a different type of fear. It’s being afraid of losing what she has with him, all because of the memories of what happened when Kaidan had emotionally abandoned her last time they’d been there. Starting to understand what this feeling is does not make her feel any better, though. “I just… Horizon’s not really a place where I want to go right now. You probably understand that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.” A quiet sigh escapes from Kaidan’s lips, but it’s one of exasperation rather than understanding. “But I also know that there are times when I need to put personal feelings aside and carry on with the mission.”

“Kind of hypocritical of you to say that, isn’t it? I seem to remember on Mars you could barely go five seconds without asking me if I was working with Cerberus.” With her emotions already at the tipping point, it doesn’t take much for bitter words to come tumbling out of Shepard’s mouth. Regret surges through her, but she doesn’t take the words back, not until she hears his response to them.

Kaidan doesn’t say anything at first. He looks away from her, running a hand through his hair, and makes that exasperated half-sigh again. “That was different. I was still following orders and doing what I was supposed to do. This--this is just you being stubborn. I mean, it’s not like you have to go someplace like Mindoir or Akuze.”

“What?” The single word is not a question or a desire for clarification, but rather a quiet threat of “did you really just cross that line?” Shepard replays Kaidan’s words in her head to make sure that she has heard them right, but with each mental repetition, they remain the same.

Kaidan realizes his mistake all too quickly. “I--shit, Shepard, I didn’t mean it like that.” He rubs a hand across his forehead. “I didn’t mean it,” he says again.

She doesn’t say anything to him. Instead, she turns and walks out of the lounge, removing herself from the conversation before either of them say anything else that they will regret. She storms toward the elevator, and when the doors open, she takes it up to her cabin. In many ways yesterday’s events are playing out all over again, but this time as she pounds on the “Deck 1” button, the ugly emotions that consume her are not regret and doubt but rather anger and frustration.

“Shepard, sometimes I fear that you have chronic memory malfunction when it comes to elevator protocol,” comes the unwelcome sound of EDI’s voice. “As I told you as recently as yesterday, it is only necessary to press the button indicating your destination once in order to--”

“I _know_ , EDI,” she snaps. EDI falls silent, acknowledging that the tone of Shepard’s response means that she doesn’t have the patience right now to listen to something like this.

The elevator doors slide open, and Shepard enters her cabin. She sits down at her desk, reclining back in her chair slightly and running a hand across her face. She lets out a long breath in an attempt to quell her restless anger. It doesn’t help very much.

She looks over at her aquarium. Watching her fish swim around with very few cares in the world usually calms her, and once she shuts out everything to watch the lazy progress of her fish, most of her immediate anger fades away. She mentally takes stock of the fish in her aquarium and realizes that something is not right--one of the fish is missing. Her eyes scan upward to the top of the tank, and she sees the telltale sign of a belly-up fish.

“Damn it,” she mutters to herself. She stands up and walks over to the aquarium. The unfortunate victim is one of her skald fish--Garrus the Fourth. Evidently the Garrus Vakarian dynasty of fish are all doomed to live short lives. She’d been doing so well keeping her fish alive, too. Ever since purchasing the aquarium VI, she has had no casualties until now.

Handling dead fish has never been one of her favorite things to do, and so she usually enlists the aid of someone else to help dispose of them. Somehow, the task usually falls into Garrus’s hands, even though he never shows much enthusiasm in doing so. She calls him regardless, figuring that Garrus has the added benefit of being someone who she is okay with being around in her current emotional state.

“What do you need?” Garrus asks on the other end of the comm connection.

“Garrus is dead.”

At first, she receives only confused silence in response. “I don’t know what reports you’ve been reading, Shepard, but last time I checked, I’m definitely alive.”

“No, my fish Garrus,” she explains, realizing she should have clarified that earlier.

“You named one of your fish after me?” Shepard can hear the laughter in Garrus’s voice. She pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, willing herself to not lose any further patience. Although Garrus cannot see this gesture, he immediately turns to seriousness. “Ah. Sorry. Not the point. I’ll be right up.”

“Thanks,” Shepard remembers to say before disconnecting. While waiting for Garrus to arrive, she hunts through her collection of supplies for aquarium maintenance. They are now largely unused due to the VI taking care of cleaning the tank, and so it takes some searching to find the small net suitable for scooping out fish. She leaves it out near the aquarium and returns to her desk to wait.

A handful of datapads that Liara has sent her regarding the preliminary refugee efforts on Thessia sits on Shepard’s desk, begging to be read. She has barely started her own report on Thessia either, but she is in no mood to work right now. Instead, she swivels her chair around and stares at the hamster cage on the shelf behind her. Her hamster is burrowed beneath some wood shavings, sleeping.

“Probably a good idea, little guy,” she says, even though the hamster won’t be able to hear her. Unfortunately, she’s not going to have time to sleep until well into the night cycle tonight, and that’s providing that her restless and troubled mind allows her. She thinks about the small bottle of sleeping pills that Chakwas has given her, which she has barely used. Maybe taking some tonight would be a good decision.

A few minutes later, Garrus has arrived. “Thought my days of helping you get rid of dead fish were over,” he says as he takes the net and scoops up the fish that bears his name.

“Can’t even keep my damn fish alive,” Shepard murmurs. It’s a silly thing to be upset about, all things considered. After having such a good track record for fish survival rate, however, her disappointment is inevitable. Or perhaps the aquarium and its inhabitants are a metaphor for the galaxy as a whole, and she’s realizing that the death of one of her fish after a pretty good track record mirrors her current situation a little too closely for her liking.

“It’s not your fault,” Garrus replies. “It was just bad luck. Or something like that.”

Once he has secured the dead fish in the net, he brings it into the bathroom. Shepard follows behind him, watching as he tips the contents of the net into the toilet bowl. The fish floats forlornly in the small pool of water.

“I guess it doesn’t bode well for me that the fish that you named after me died,” says Garrus with a dark laugh.

“Actually, he’s the fourth fish I named after you,” Shepard admits. “I didn’t tell you about the others because I didn’t want you to feel bad. Especially because my fish were dropping like flies last year.”

“Don’t know whether I should be honored by this or not.” He tilts his head to the side, studying the dead fish. “I’m not sure I see the resemblance.”

“The spines,” says Shepard, and Garrus gives a small “ah” of recognition. “It was more obvious with the first one.”

She puts a finger on the button that flushes the toilet: an action that she has done countless times with all the other fish that have died but has never gotten easier. Just like accepting the deaths of those who have died around her doesn’t get easier, either.

“Rest easy, little fella,” she says.

Once they have left the bathroom, Shepard settles back in her desk chair. She feels Garrus’s eyes on her, watching her intently in the way he often does when he’s debating whether he should say something to her. She doesn’t prompt anything out of him, but his words come out anyway.

“You look terrible, you know.”

Shepard doesn’t say anything. She rubs a hand across her forehead and feels the furrows of worry lines. She wouldn’t be be surprised if they were permanent fixtures on her face by now.

“Let me guess,” Garrus says. “You and Kaidan had some kind of argument.”

“What gave it away?” asks Shepard. Can Garrus really read her that easily? She has never thought of herself as an open book, not like Kaidan.

“Figured there might be some tension between you two with us headed toward Horizon.” He continues to study her reactions carefully. “So? Am I right?”

“Yeah,” Shepard confirms. “I… We both said some things. You know, that we probably didn’t mean.” As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she’s equally at fault for the tense exchange that occurred between them, even though it had been Kaidan’s statement that had driven her over the edge. “God, he’s right, though. I _am_ scared.” Her fingers absently toy with a pen on her desk, only used when the old-fashioned pen-and-paper method of scribbling down notes is more efficient than making a reminder on her omni-tool. “Everything with him has gone so smoothly since we started things up again. And he’s the only person I’ve, you know, really loved, and I’m afraid of messing that up. And because of what happened on Horizon last time, I don’t want to be reminded of when things _did_ get messed up between us.”

“Well, you know I’m no good at advice, Shepard,” says Garrus. “But you probably should talk to him. Otherwise I might have to talk to him for you, and I don’t think you’d want that.”

“No, you don’t have to do that.” She suspects that any “talking” Garrus does with Kaidan in response to this situation will border on threats. “But yeah, I know I’m going to have to talk to him. Probably just going to, you know, take ten or so minutes to cool down a little more. Maybe get some work done first.”

“Sounds like you’ve figured out your own problem.” Garrus hesitates and then adds, “You need me for anything else?”

“No. I think I’m good. Thank you, though.” Shepard looks at him with sincerity. “For everything.”

“No problem,” Garrus replies. “See you around, Shepard.”

Once he has left, Shepard pulls up her omni-tool and sets a timer for ten minutes. She figures that is all the time she will need to further distance herself from the anger that has flared up in response to her argument with Kaidan. With all the work she has to do, ten minutes isn’t going to lead to much productivity, but it’s the best kind of distraction that she can think of.

When the timer goes off, she has almost finished outlining the preliminary points that she needs to include in her next report to the Council. She suspects that the full report will not be completed until after they’ve followed Kai Leng’s trail, and so she leaves the bottom portion of the document blank for now. Now that she has fully calmed down, she has no further reason to avoid talking to Kaidan. She stands up from her desk and walks toward the door, rehearsing what to say to him in her head.

Much to her surprise, when she palms open the door to the hallway she discovers Kaidan is already standing there. “Hi,” he says, hesitating around the single word of greeting. “Can I, uh… Can I come in?”

“I was just going to find you, actually. So… yeah.” Everything that Shepard has carefully planned out to say to him falls away now that he has sought her out instead of the other way around.

She stands to the side to allow him entrance to her cabin. Once inside, they linger near the closed door. At first, neither of them speak, lost in the inherent awkwardness that comes with talking to someone after having argued with them. Kaidan clears his throat, choosing to break the moment of uncertainty between them.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize,” he says. “For, you know, being an ass. Saying what I said before you stormed out. It was definitely out of line for me to say something like that, and I’m sorry.”

“Well, to be fair, I was kind of an ass too,” Shepard admits. “I’ve just… you know. Had a rough couple of days. And with having to go back to Horizon and everything, that only made things worse. I… I shouldn’t have taken it all out on you.” She looks away from him to gather her thoughts before meeting his eyes in an honest gaze. “Because you were right when you said I was afraid. I’m afraid of losing what we have, because sometimes I think that it’s one of the only things that keeps me going through this war. But it’s silly of me to think that just the memories of what happened last year are going to be enough to ruin that. It’s not fair to either of us to think that way. So I’m sorry too.”

“We’re… good, then?” Kaidan inquires, a little hesitant.

“I think so.” If only Shepard realized earlier how easy it would be to resolve the situation between them. Maybe some time to cool off is all either of them really needed.

She offers a tentative hand to him. He takes hold of it and squeezes it gently in a gesture of forgiveness. “You know, this is probably the first real fight we’ve had,” he says. “Besides, you know, what happened last year. I guess I should say it’s the first fight we’ve had that’s resolved itself quickly.”

“Seems like it was almost too easy to get through it.” Shepard laughs briefly. “But I think some disagreement every now and then is supposed to be healthy in a relationship. I mean, obviously it isn’t fun. But you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Kaidan rubs one of his temples with his free hand. Shepard has spent enough time with him that she immediately recognizes the gesture as an indicator that he may have an impending migraine.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s not bad. Just a minor headache.”

She gives him a doubtful look, knowing that he tends to downplay his migraines. “You can rest in here if you need to. I’m not going to be doing anything besides working.”

“Might be a good idea.” He lets go of her hand, pressing his fingers against his temples and wincing slightly. “You sure me being here won’t distract you?”

“No, it’s fine. I’d rather have you resting so you can be at a hundred percent in case I need you for the shore party on Horizon.” Shepard walks over to her desk to gather some of the datapads that she needs to look over. As Kaidan walks over to the bed, she preemptively dims the lights in the cabin in case he’s experiencing any sensitivity to light. She settles down on the bed next to him, sitting up against the pillows and letting her bedside lamp shine just enough light so that she can read the datapads.

Kaidan lies back and closes his eyes. “Head massage might feel nice right now,” he says. “I mean, if you don’t mind.”

Holding on to the datapad with one hand and using her thumb to scroll down, Shepard reaches over to gently press her fingers into his scalp. Kaidan makes a small sound of contentment in response, and so she continues the action, letting his quiet words guide her in helping to soothe his headache.

“Hey, Shepard?” he asks.

“Hm?” She looks up from the datapad that she has been reading to acknowledge him.

“You mind if I sleep? Just for an hour or two, probably.”

“Go ahead,” she encourages him.

Within a few minutes, she hears the soft sound of Kaidan’s sleeping breaths. He looks so peaceful when he slumbers, although he maintains a small crease between his eyebrows that indicates pain, worry, or both. This isn’t the first time he has fallen asleep next to her while she has been working, but having him by her side comforts her immensely. It’s hard to believe that less than an hour ago they’d been exchanging tense words, driving each other to their breaking points. Now, only the quiet peace of forgiveness exists between them.

She leans over to kiss his cheek, and for now, that is enough to sustain her as she continues to work.


	17. Chapter 17

By the time the Normandy reaches Horizon, Kai Leng has already fled, but what Shepard does find sheds a disturbing light on Cerberus’s agenda. The discovery that Cerberus has been researching and using Reaper technology to turn innocent civilians into husks further catapults the organization into the category of “serious threat.” With the Crucible not yet nearing completion and the galactic fleets still assembling, the counter-attack on Earth remains far-off, and so Shepard’s new strategy involves storming the Cerberus base to both weaken their hold on the galaxy and discover any useful data that they might possess.

The scale of such an assault is, of course, larger than any of the other operations that Shepard has led during this war, save for the return to Earth. Once the preliminary plans have been set into motion, Shepard decides that this might be a good time to give her crew a break--the last real breather that many of them may have for a while. She thinks about the apartment on the Citadel that Anderson has passed on to her for her use. Maybe a few days’ relaxation on the Citadel is what everyone on the ship needs right now. The deal is further sealed when EDI points out that the Normandy is due for its routine retrofits, and so Shepard sets a course for the Citadel.

However, she should have expected that she can’t even enjoy shore leave without having someone trying to kill her, and the ambush at a sushi restaurant that sends her falling through a fish tank is only the beginning of a chain of very strange events.

With the aid of the helpful yet in-over-her-head Staff Analyst Brooks, who’d warned Shepard of the assassination attempt, they trace the source of the threat to the Citadel Archives. Shepard is pleased to discover that the mercs waiting for her there have severely underestimated her--their disbelieving cries of “Shepard brought the full crew!” and “Shit! They’ve got a krogan!” spell that out loudly enough. It almost seems too easy, until a voice orders her squad to drop their weapons. Something about that voice is incredibly familiar, but Shepard can’t quite place it.

“Whatever you think you’re getting away with,” Shepard says to the shadowed figure standing on a platform above her, “there’s nowhere you can run, nowhere you can hide, where we can’t find you.”

“Hide? Why?” the familiar voice asks. The figure steps out of the shadows, and its identity hits Shepard like a blow to the stomach. Her own face looks back at her as if reflected in a mirror, its features exactly the same. “I’m Commander Shepard. I never hide.” The not-Shepard sneers down at her. The expression shows a display of outward aggression that seems out of place on her face.

“Uh-huh. So that’s how it’s going to be,” Wrex grumbles from behind Shepard. Shepard herself, however, finds herself at a complete loss for words, because what do you say to someone who is wearing your face and speaking with your voice?

The not-Shepard jumps down from the platform, landing gracefully in a crouch before standing and walking over to Shepard. Her immediate reaction is to raise her gun in a defensive posture, but with the imposter’s order for everyone to lay down her weapons, she is left defenseless.

“Who are you?” she demands to her doppelganger.

“You weren’t the only Shepard that Cerberus brought back to life.” Again that ugly sneer. “But at least one of us will finally do something with it.”

Of _course_ Cerberus is responsible for this. Why would they make two Shepards, though, when they’d encountered enough problems resurrecting just one of them?

“Where did you come from?” Shepard asks, determined to get to the bottom of the issue.

“The same DNA as you,” the other Shepard explains. She points a finger at Shepard, one hand maintaining a secure hold on her weapon.

“A clone.” Shepard can practically hear the groan in Wrex’s voice. She shares his sentiments: of all the things to run into during shore leave, of all the people who could have been trying to kill her, of course the answer has to be something as ridiculous as a clone.

The clone reveals everything: she’d been built by Cerberus as a backup in case anything went wrong, and she’d only been woken up six months ago while the real Shepard had still been in custody on Earth. She has spent the time since then learning how to be human and imitate Shepard’s behavior. “Amazing what a person can do with a few neural implants,” the clone says. A mocking smirk pulls the corners of her mouth upward.

“If you’re really me,” Shepard replies in a desperate attempt to diplomatically reason with the clone, “then we’re on the same team.”

The clone shakes her head. “We’re not even in the same league.”

“Did the Illusive Man send you?” she asks. It’s the only explanation that she can think of. The only other person involved with Cerberus who has a direct vendetta against her is Kai Leng, and he obtains all of his orders from the Illusive Man in the first place.

“No,” the clone replies. “He abandoned me when he had what he wanted--you.”

Her response is not the answer that Shepard is looking for. If the Illusive Man has discarded this clone, then who is responsible for motivating her to come after the real Shepard? Is it a group or individual outside of Cerberus, and Cerberus is merely responsible for the creation of the clone? Or is the clone self-motivated, determined to maintain a sense of true identity by killing Shepard and taking her place?

“So what’s your point in trying to kill us?” Kaidan inquires, speaking the exact words on Shepard’s mind. This situation must be equally strange for him, being face-to-face with a carbon copy of the woman he loves.

“Because I don’t have her memories.” The clone nods to Shepard before turning to walk away from Shepard and her squad. “I’d never fool my supposed friends. Ones who abandoned their duty to join the cult of Shepard. Like you, Major Alenko.” She turns back to face Kaidan. that uncharacteristically cruel smirk still on her face. “I would have picked the other one on Virmire. Ashley something?”

Shepard tenses, her hands clenching into fists. She has been able to give the clone a pass so far, her worst offense having the audacity to think herself as superior to the real Shepard. Now, however, she has crossed the line with her casually callous remark about Virmire. For not having Shepard’s memories, the clone is certainly good at knowing what will get a rise out of her.

“You’re just a pale imitation of the real thing,” Kaidan retorts.

“I _am_ the real thing.” Anger flashes in the clone’s eyes, making the dark blue irises harden with intensity. “I’m the real thing perfected. I’m you without the wear and tear, Shepard. The doubts, the failures. I’m the lone wolf you were always meant to be. Without the emotional baggage holding me back.”

The clone snarls out the words “emotional baggage.” She now stands face-to-face with Shepard. Shepard could count the freckles across the bridge of the clone’s nose if she wanted to.

“No one will ever believe you’re Shepard,” Wrex points out.

Anyone else would have quailed at the threatening words of a seven-foot tall krogan battlemaster, but the clone remains unfazed. “They will when I’m flying her ship,” she says.

All at once, the full consequences of everything the clone could do hits Shepard full in the face. The members of her crew who are here at the archives will know that the clone isn’t actually her, but everyone else on the ship will never think to question the identity of their commanding officer. She’s going to have to move quickly if she doesn’t want the clone flying off with her ship with her crew none the wiser.

She activates her comm. “This is Shepard,” she says, trying not to sound too panicked. “Initiate Normandy lockdown. Transmitting command codes now.” She barely has time to enter the codes into her omni-tool before she realizes that the comm line is dead. She looks up to see that the clone has activated her own omni-tool.

“Good idea.” Her lips curl into a disparaging sneer. “Too bad the signal was blocked.” When the clone speaks into her comm, her voice is noticeably different. Instead of harsh aggression, it now more closely resembles Shepard’s normal tone: calm, collected, diplomatic. “Traynor, this is Shepard. Prep the Normandy for emergency departure. We’re leaving. I’m sending the command codes now.” She enters the codes into her omni-tool.

“Acknowledged,” comes the sound of Traynor’s reply. “We’ll get underway.”

Shepard’s heart sinks. The clone has everything she needs to successfully escape on the Normandy: Shepard’s face, voice, access codes, and respect of her crew. It’s a good thing she has her entire squad with her, or else she’d really start to panic. With the combined forces of whom she considers some of the strongest fighters in the galaxy, that clone is going to wish that she never woke up from that coma six months ago.

“It’ll be a cold day in hell before someone steals my ship,” she declares.

“It’s not stealing if I’m you.” A wicked sort of grin crosses the clone’s expression. She turns to her waiting merc team. “Execute them,” she commands. “The cult of Shepard ends today.”

The clone walks away, and Shepard barely has enough time to grab a weapon before the assault begins. Once they dispose of the mercs, they follow the clone’s trail through the archives, taking down the merc squads as they go. These mercs are no more prepared for Shepard and her crew than the other mercs were, and judging from the comm chatter that Shepard hears, her comrades are having far too much fun taking them out.

She finally catches up with the clone in one of the vaults, but the situation only gets worse from there with the revelation that Brooks is a mole, an ex-Cerberus operative who’d been the one to awaken the clone. Hearing about how Liara’s information gathering and EDI’s data retrieval has hindered Brooks’s plan gives Shepard the slightest surge of victory. Now that she and her crew are about to become trapped in the archive vaults, however, there’s not much else she can do to stop the clone.

“What are you doing?” she asks as the clone walks over to a computer terminal. For a fleeting moment, she thinks that the clone is going to release her and her squad from the field that traps them. Instead, the clone pulls up a recording of Shepard’s Spectre induction ceremony.

“I’m setting things right,” the clone replies. “Remember this?” She gestures to the holographic images of the asari and turian councilors praising Shepard for the accomplishment and honor that she has brought to humanity. “Somewhere along the way, you forgot about your entire species. You’ve saved more alien lives than you’ve saved human. Hell, you’ve even saved batarians, even though they’re the ones who slaughtered your family all those years ago.”

“I don’t care what species they are,” Shepard retorts. “Every life counts. But maybe a clone wouldn’t understand that.”

The clone scoffs, a brief noise of irritation. “You know the one thing they can’t duplicate? Our handprint.” She raises a gloved hand. “Life gives it its shape, not DNA, which is a problem.” She turns back to the terminal. “Update Council records,” she says to it. “Subject: Shepard, human Spectre.”

“Accessing record,” replies the computer’s calm female vocal output. “Please input new data.”

The clone lays out her hand. A scan of her handprint, obtained through the protective layer of her gloves, appears on the screen. With this data entered into the Council’s records, the clone will be able to pass through any security checks that demand a biometric scan. Shepard has now effectively been replaced.

The clone steps away from the terminal. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, the Normandy needs its captain. So…” She turns to face Shepard, fixing her with a pointed look. “I should go.”

“Farewell, Commander,” says Brooks. “I guess this is where legends go to die.”

Shepard barely acknowledges what Brooks says. She is too focused on the clone’s parting words to her. She had said them with far too much emphasis for it to be a coincidental turn of phrase--so she must have known that the words would mean something to Shepard. The phrase “I should go” was something that Commander Ryan always used to say. When she was a teenager Shepard had poked fun at him for it, saying it made him sound like a pompous ass. Until now, she hadn’t even noticed that she’d ended up adopting the phrase for herself. Does she really say it that often that the clone can rightfully mock her by throwing the words back at her?

The floor of the vault lurches as it moves sideways. It travels along the track to return to its place among the other vaults that have remained unopened for centuries--and will stay unopened unless Shepard can figure out a way for them to escape.

“Refresh my memory,” Wrex says. “Didn’t we used to win these things back in the old days?”

Kaidan has his omni-tool out, scanning the walls of the vault to determine any structural weaknesses. He doesn’t say anything, but the small frown in his expression indicates that he hasn’t found a method of escape yet.

“She said ‘I should go,’” Shepard muses aloud, still focused on that one issue. “Do I sound like that?”

“As long as I’ve known you, yeah,” Wrex replies. He leans against the wall, as if momentarily accepting defeat. Shepard is surprised that he isn’t trying to use brute force to get them out of the vault.

“And now maybe let’s turn our attention to the impregnable vault that we’ve just been sealed in forever,” Kaidan adds, shutting off his omni-tool.

“How come nobody told me about this before?” Shepard continues on. “I’m open to feedback here.” She would have thought that someone would have made a comment to her about it, just as she had said something to Ryan. Knowing that the nine years since his death have passed by with her unknowingly carrying on part of his legacy is a strange feeling.

“Well, I thought it all humans said it.” Wrex gives an indifferent shrug. “Like some weird Earth custom or something.”

“I’m going to guess that we have an hour of air in here, tops,” says Kaidan, using an unmistakable tone of “you’re really letting your priorities get out of whack.”

“Maybe it’s ‘I should _go_ ,’” Shepard mutters to herself, trying out a different emphasis. “Or ‘I _should_ go.’ ‘ _I_ should go’...” No matter how she says it, though, she continues to sound like Ryan. She recalls the stories that she has heard about people growing up and realizing that they sound exactly like their parents. She supposes that her realization that she has appropriated Ryan’s standard words of farewell is part of a similar phenomenon.

“Shepard! Hey!” The touch of Kaidan’s hand on her arm pulls her out of her distracting thoughts. “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

“Hm? Oh, right.” She activates her comm. “Glyph, you still out there?”

“Yes, Commander,” comes the reply of the info drone.

“Unlock this damn thing and go find the others. No one steals my ship. Not even me.”

With Glyph’s help, Shepard and the others find their way out of the archives and regroup, making the necessary changes to their squad divisions before they head straight for the docks. She hopes that security and flight checks will give them enough of a buffer period before the clone leaves with the ship, but by the time she and her squad have fought their way through the mercs waiting at the docks, the ship is already preparing to take off.

Fortunately, they are able to board the ship in time and get through to the CIC with the aid of a very confused Traynor. The last thing that Shepard would have expected to do during shore leave is be involved in a firefight on her own ship, but when mercs are waiting for her in the CIC, she is left with little choice. She follows the clone’s trail to the shuttle bay, and the open area soon becomes a war zone with her, Kaidan, and Liara shooting at the clone and Brooks. Joker and Cortez have assured Shepard that they’ll fly a skycar in the Normandy’s path to slow down their departure from the Citadel. Even though she trusts their piloting abilities, she’s not sure that will buy them enough time for her to deal with the clone.

Shepard thinks about all the time that she has spent in the shuttle bay: sparring with James, doing target practice with Garrus, being a willing target for Kaidan as he practices his controlled biotic lifts. During those times, she has idly thought about how the shuttle bay is enough of an open space with well-placed spots for cover that it would be a good place for combat if the need ever arose. She never thought that she’d actually see battle in it, though, especially not against her own clone. Wherever this clone learned to fight, she has definitely learned how to mimic Shepard’s fighting style perfectly. She anticipates every one of Shepard’s moves, but Shepard is also easily able to dodge anything that the clone throws at her. Unless one of them pulls out a trick that the other doesn’t expect, she suspects that their conflict is going to be perpetually locked in a standoff.

“You’re nothing but a figurehead!” the clone yells to her. Shepard comes out of cover to fire at her, but the clone dodges the shot. “A decent soldier with a lucky streak!”

“Then how come you want to be me so badly?” Shepard retorts. A flurry of gunfire flies past her. She searches for the source in an attempt to find the clone’s current location.

“If we’re talking about your combat skills, I’m already better than you!” She catches sight of the top of the clone’s head, barely visible behind the crates that she is using for cover. Shepard dashes forward, her gun ready so that she can take the shot the moment the clone comes up.

“Well, from where I’m standing, we look pretty evenly matched!”

“That’s because I’ve been holding back!” At the clone’s last word, a burst of energy erupts from her hand. It catches Shepard off guard, sending her flying back, until her body slams into a storage console. When she regains her bearings and scrambles to her feet, she sees the bright blue energy that flares around the clone’s body as she walks toward her.

“You can use biotics?” she inquires in disbelief.

“That’s right.” The clone smirks. She readies another biotic throw, but Shepard is prepared this time. She dodges out of its path, letting the dark energy fizzle out once it has missed its target. “Remember when I said that I was built as your spare in case anything went wrong with you? Well, that also means that Cerberus had more time to perfect me. See, you were a rushed job. The beta version. Because the Collector threat needed to be taken care of, they had to get you up and running as soon as possible. But with me, they could take their time and give me everything that they couldn’t give you. Like biotics.”

She hurls another throw at Shepard, who avoids it once again. “So you think that makes you better than me?” she asks. “Just because you have your biotics? Well, I’ve also learned to fight without them, so whatever edge you think that gives you, you’re wrong.”

The clone laughs, an ugly, mocking sound. “Oh, I’ve got a lot more of an edge than that. I may not have your memories, but I still know who you are and what you’ve gone through. I know how weak you are, not being able to let go of what happened in your past. Letting your emotions get the better of you. You’re nothing but a coward who doesn’t have what it takes.”

“You’re wrong!” Shepard yells. She dodges out of the way of a third biotic throw.

“Am I?” The clone scoffs. “I’m the Shepard that you were always meant to be. The one who doesn’t hesitate to do what has to be done. Whereas deep down you know that you’re still just River, the girl who was helpless to save her family. You should have died on Mindoir with them!”

She glows blue with the charge of biotic energy. Shepard doesn’t have time to duck behind cover, and so the biotic warp hits her nearly full-on, shredding through her shields. She cries out in pain as the lingering mass effect field sends shockwaves through her body.

“And then when you tried to kill yourself after Mindoir, you couldn’t even do that properly,” the clone continues on. “Shows how useless you really--”

Her words are cut off abruptly. A surge of biotic energy lifts her up in the air, restraining her in a mass effect field. Shepard rises unsteadily to her feet and sees that Kaidan has rushed to her side. A corona of energy surrounds him, and he looks more furious than she has ever seen him.

“You say one more word and I swear to God I’ll kill you.” His narrowed eyes shine electric blue from the biotics. Shepard has never realized how utterly terrifying Kaidan looks when he is glowing with biotic rage.

Even though the field holds the clone in place, she can still give a disparaging laugh in response. “Oh, look, it’s Shepard’s knight in shining armor come to kill the big, bad clone.” She laughs again. “She probably doesn’t even care about you, you know. You’re no different from all the other guys she’s fucked just to make herself feel wanted.”

“That’s not true!” Kaidan retorts. “You might think you know everything about Shepard, but you don’t even come close to knowing what it’s like to actually be her. You don’t even deserve to be wearing her face!”

“I don’t need that bullshit,” the clone says. “I _am_ Shepard. I’m not held back by any of those memories. Whereas this one…” She looks at Shepard. “All you need to do is press the right buttons and she becomes a complete mess. Like what about that one soldier who was always there to rescue you? You know, the guy who practically begged you to leave him behind on Akuze because he thought you were someone worth saving?” The clone laughs. “I guess it goes without saying that you would have been better off being slaughtered by that thresher maw, but of course he’d never let that happen. Had to play the self-sacrificing hero to make sure the great Shepard survived, didn’t he? What was his name again?”

Shepard’s hand clenches around her gun. “His name was Elijah Ryan,” she snarls, “and you’re not even fit to speak his name.”

“Running out of juice here,” Kaidan warns her. The strength of his biotics is fading, a sign of imminent cooldown.

“Let her go,” Shepard says. Although the biotic field restrains the clone from attacking her, it also prevents her from doing anything to injure the clone. “I can deal with her.”

Kaidan hesitates, as if he is about to object. He then nods in approval. “You need my help, just yell.”

The blue energy surrounding his body dissipates, and the field around the clone vanishes. She falls to the ground but immediately rises to her feet. Shepard is ready for assault this time. She rushes the clone and activates her omni-blade for hand-to-hand combat before she can prepare a longer-range biotic attack.

She grabs the clone by the collar of her armor, kneeing her in the stomach to knock the wind out of her. “You may think you know how to get to me,” she says. The clone struggles against her grip, and the searing blue fire of anger burns in her eyes. “And yeah, I’ve gone through a lot of shit in my life. But I’ve also survived it, and those experiences are what have made me stronger. And that’s something that you could never understand. Because you’re _not_ me. You’re not River Shepard, and you never will be.”

She releases the clone, throwing her down to the ground. The clone’s upper lip curls into a snarl as she stands up.

“You _bitch_.”

She runs, much to Shepard’s surprise. Shepard chases after her, tackling her to the ground once she catches up to her. Gravity and the movement of the ship do not act in their favor, however. The escape and pursuit has brought them near the opened cargo bay door where the shuttle has launched, and the slant of the ramp sends them rolling into open air. Beneath them, the buildings of the Citadel pass by as the ship flies over them.

When their momentum stops, Shepard is in the superior position. She pins the clone to the ground and curls her hand into a fist. Her gloved knuckles slam into the clone’s face, and a sickening crack fills the air when the force of the punch breaks the clone’s nose. Blood streams from her nostrils, but that doesn’t stop Shepard from landing another punch.

The clone’s eyebrows contract together in anger. Using the strength of her lower body, she throws Shepard off her, leaving her lying flat on her back dangerously close to the edge of the ramp. The clone steadies herself and wipes the blood from her nose, ready to deal a final blow to send Shepard tumbling down into the Citadel streets below. Shepard shifts position in anticipation of the attack, but the blast of wind from a passing vehicle knocks them both off-balance. They cling to the edge of the ramp, their grip the only thing keeping them from falling to their likely deaths.

“Look at you,” the clone says, struggling to pull herself further up onto the ramp. “What makes you so damn special? Why you and not me? What gives you the right to say that you’re Shepard?”

Shepard hears Liara’s yell telling her to hang on as she and Kaidan rush toward her. When the slope of the ramp becomes too steep for them to run down, they form a chain, with Liara holding on to Kaidan’s ankle to keep him from sliding. He reaches a hand out to Shepard.

“We’ve got you,” he assures her. She grasps his hand, and he pulls her up, helping her get to safer ground.

“Thanks,” she says.

“What about her?” Liara gestures to the clone.

Shepard looks down at the clone, whose grip on the edge of the ramp is slipping. Wherever Brooks is, clearly the clone is not important enough to her to save. And therein lies the answer to the clone’s question: Shepard is special because she has the help and support of her friends--no, an entire galaxy--to give her strength.

For the first time in their encounter, Shepard sees a glimpse of vulnerability in the clone’s eyes. In that expression, she remembers what it is like to feel abandoned, to think that there’s nothing special about you, to convince yourself that there is no other choice but death. Back then, she’d had someone to pull her back from the edge and remind her that she does have reasons to live. The clone, however, has no one. She is in the very same position that Shepard has always feared returning to.

Shepard moves further down the ramp, staying crouched down to keep her center of gravity close to the ground. “Take my hand,” she says to the clone, reaching her hand out.

“And then?” the clone demands. She does not move except to tighten her grip on the edge of the ramp.

“And then you live.” Shepard gives the clone a pleading look, but the clone only shakes her head. Her mouth sets itself into a final sneer.

“For what?”

The clone’s grip slackens and then lets go completely. Her body sprawls out in a free-fall, hurtling down toward the buildings and streets of the Citadel. Shepard turns away and moves carefully up the ramp to the more stable ground of the cargo bay, not wanting to witness the inevitable impact.

“You okay?” Kaidan asks. He touches a gentle hand to her shoulder.

“Yeah,” she replies, taking a long, steadying exhale.

She leans against him, looking down at where the clone had been struggling only moments before, and strangely enough, she feels free.


	18. Chapter 18

Once the Normandy is safely docked again, Shepard has to take care of business before shore leave resumes. She reports what has happened to the Council and resets her biometric records to what they had been before the clone’s intervention. An order is also given to C-Sec to locate the clone’s body before someone else finds it and instigates any rumors that Commander Shepard is dead. For the most part, though, the encounter with the clone is covered up quickly and quietly. Shepard has lingering questions of her own, namely how the clone knew about so many of her past experiences despite claiming to not have Shepard’s memories, which leads to the issue of how Cerberus was able to dig so deeply into her personal records. If anyone in her crew would be able to give her an answer about that, it would be Liara, but she’s going to save that part of the follow-up investigation until later, probably after shore leave is over.

Shepard eventually returns to the apartment, glad that it is in the context of seeking relaxation instead of planning strategies. The apartment is currently empty, with the rest of her crew occupied with their own business of whatever they get up to during shore leave. A little peace and quiet is exactly what Shepard needs, though, especially because she isn’t sure when the apartment is going to be this quiet again. Plans have already been set in motion to throw a party here for the Normandy’s crew as a way to blow off some steam before they return to the reality of the war.

Shepard sprawls out on one of the couches in the living room, closing her eyes and savoring the feeling of having the space of the apartment entirely to herself with no duties to attend to. She almost doesn’t know what to do with herself, although she supposes that’s the point of having shore leave after working herself so hard lately.

Her comm buzzes, breaking her sense of solitude. Hearing Kaidan’s voice on the other end of the line immediately eliminates the brief tinge of irritation that she feels upon being interrupted from doing nothing. She has barely had a chance to see Kaidan since getting the Normandy docked again, and having him come to the apartment for some time alone with him is definitely a good use of her time off.

“Hey,” he says to her. “Are you busy right now?”

“I’m currently lying on the couch in an empty apartment,” she replies. “Well, Liara left Glyph here, but he knows not to bother me. So that should answer your question.”

“I was thinking that I could come over and give you some company.”

His voice carries enough of a suggestive tone for her to understand his underlying meaning. “Is that a proposition, Major?” she asks, using a similarly flirtatious voice. She stretches her legs out straight in front of her to relieve the tensed muscles. Her fight with the clone has left her a little sore and banged up, but it’s nothing worse than what she would usually expect after intense combat.

“Maybe.” Kaidan chuckles. “I can be at the apartment in about ten minutes. Then maybe you, uh, won’t be the only one lying on the couch.”

Shepard laughs as well. “You really need to work on your dirty talk.”

“Right. Well, uh…” She can almost picture the sheepish look on Kaidan’s face. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “Let me know when you’re here. I’ll let you in.” She hesitates. The only sound she hears is the quiet static on the other end of the comm line. “And Kaidan?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” Shepard normally only says those words to him face-to-face in the privacy of her cabin, but in this moment, they feel right. After everything that she has been through today, she needs to hear their verbal exchange of their affection for each other.

“I love you too,” Kaidan replies. “See you in a bit. Kaidan out.”

Once their comm connection disconnects, Shepard calls Glyph from her comm, not wanting to get up from the couch and find where he is lurking in the apartment. “There isn’t any surveillance in this apartment, is there, Glyph?”

“There is not, Commander,” he replies. “If you would like some extra security, I can--”

“No, that’s fine. No surveillance is actually, uh, better for now.” Shepard shifts on the couch so that she is sitting upright.

“Do you wish to remain undisturbed, Commander?” Glyph inquires.

“Yes, please. Unless there’s something really important.” She has faced enough crises to last her the rest of shore leave, and she sincerely hopes that she can spend the next couple of days relaxing with no business interruptions.

“Understood, Commander.”

As promised, Kaidan shows up approximately ten minutes later. Taking advantage of the empty apartment and the lack of interruptions, it doesn’t take them long before they’re both lying on the couch, kissing each other fiercely.

“Nice to see you too,” Kaidan says, pulling himself away from her ever so slightly to speak. He lies with his weight half-supported on top of her, one hand tangled in her hair while the other entwines their fingers together.

“Well, you know,” Shepard replies. “Things got a little hairy earlier today. Need to find a way to unwind.” She kisses him again. “I thought I’d hate having nothing to do, but I think I can warm up to it. No calls to make, no emails to reply to. I can read actual books instead of reports. I can have sex with my boyfriend in the middle of the day without having to worry about being interrupted. I don’t know why I don’t take time off like this more often.”

“Because give it more than a couple of days and you’ll be begging to get back to ship life. I know you’d miss it too much.” Kaidan runs a finger down her cheek in an absent motion before kissing her. “But let’s get back to what you said about sex.”

Shepard murmurs in approval. With everything that has been going on lately, it has been far too long since they have had the time to be intimate together. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve seen the upstairs yet, but there’s a very nice master bedroom up there. And it has a hot tub.”

“Mm. That sounds tempting.” Kaidan eases some of his weight away from her to sit up. He keeps their hands entwined. “Maybe hot tub first?”

“Yeah. This tired old woman needs to rest her bones.” At Kaidan’s look of confusion, Shepard adds, “It’s, uh, something the clone called me.”

He laughs. “Trust me, Shepard. You’re not old.”

“Definitely feels like I’ve aged five years over the past few months, though.” She shifts to sit up as well, leaning against him comfortably.

“Hey, at least you’re not getting noticeable gray hairs yet,” Kaidan points out.

Shepard _has_ noticed her own gray hairs, though: not a lot, but more than a few, hidden beneath the youthful strands of red. She is fairly certain that they have shown up in the time that has passed since Cerberus rebuilt her. Cerberus wouldn’t have brought her back with the signs of age and decay, just as they hadn’t reconstructed the imperfections of old scars.

“I like your gray hairs, though.” She reaches up to run a hand through the offending strands that are scattered across his temples. “They make you look dashing.”

“Well, thanks.” Kaidan’s response to her compliment is genuine. “But, um, speaking of things that the clone said.” He adopts a more serious tone. “You know, to try to, I don’t know, break you or whatever. I don’t know if this is the best time to talk about it, but I don’t think there’s ever really a good time to talk about it, you know? So…”

Shepard already suspects what he wants to talk about, but she doesn’t say anything to prompt him in either direction of discussing the topic.She grips his hand tighter in an instinctive reaction, bracing herself.

“I know a lot of the stuff she said was exaggerated or a lie to get a rise out of you,” Kaidan continues on. “But when she said that you tried to kill yourself once… That part was true, wasn’t it?” His words are hesitant, cautious, as if he is afraid of saying something wrong.

Shepard doesn’t say anything in response at first. She moves away from him, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands. “It was a long time ago,” she says finally. “You remember what I told you about how I had a really hard time after Mindoir? I thought that nobody could help me. That everything was my fault, and things would be better if I made everything go away. And so I tried. I had a bottle of pills, and…” The rest of the sentence remains unspoken. She runs a hand through her hair, taking a deep breath out. “I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier.”

“It’s okay.” He touches a hand to her shoulder.

“But it’s not fair to you.” Shepard lifts her head to look at him. “I mean, you told me everything, all your baggage, right from the start. While on the other hand, you have to learn things about me from a goddamn clone.”

“Hey. Come here.” Kaidan reaches out his other arm to offer her a hug. She accepts the gesture, allowing herself to become enfolded in his embrace. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You said it yourself--it was a long time ago. What _does_ matter is that you were able to move past that point and survive. I think you put it perfectly when you told the clone that she’d never be able to understand that. And… well, I want to let you know that that’s what I think.”

The only response that Shepard gives to his words is lifting her head to kiss his cheek. “Come on,” she says. “We’ve got a hot tub waiting for us.” She stands up and extends a hand to him. He grasps her hand and gets to his feet, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as he does so.

They make their way upstairs to the bathroom attached to the master bedroom. Shepard turns on the hot tub’s jets and dips a hand into the water to test the temperature. The soothing heat of the water draws a sigh of contentment out of her.

“That’s definitely going to feel good.”

She strips off her clothing, leaving it in a pile where it won’t get wet, and steps into the hot tub, submerging herself into the churning waters. It’s not long before Kaidan joins her. They sit nestled together with Shepard’s legs draped across his lap. His arm wraps around her body to keep her balanced as she leans against him.

“You know what would make this even better?” says Kaidan. “A bottle of wine or something.”

“Don’t have any wine, sorry,” Shepard replies. “I stocked up the kitchen, but the only alcohol I have right now is beer. Oh, and part of a bottle of vodka that Anderson must have left last time he was here. I’ll probably get more for the party tomorrow night.”

“Yeah, I heard something about you throwing a party, but I thought that was just, you know, metaphorical or something.” Kaidan laughs. “That’s something that’s seriously happening?”

“Yeah, I think everyone deserves a chance to blow off some steam after everything that’s happened. I sent out the invites before you came over. If you check your inbox you’ll probably find yours.” Shepard absently strokes his chest as she speaks. He trembles slightly under her touch, especially when one of her fingers circles slowly around one of his nipples. “What, you got something against parties?”

“No, I like parties just fine,” says Kaidan. “It’s just… well, you know our crew. Something tells me it’s not going to be a quiet affair.”

“Blowing off steam kind of implies the opposite of quiet.” She shifts slightly to place a quick kiss on the underside of his jawline. “Besides, I’ve never really had the opportunity to throw my own party before. I mean, I’ve been to a bunch. But those were mostly parties I snuck out to when I was younger.”

“So you were always a little rebellious, huh?” Kaidan runs a hand through her hair, stopping at the nape of her neck as he gently twists the damp ends of her hair around his fingers.

“A little bit, yeah,” Shepard says. “I still remember the first time I got drunk. It was at a party at an abandoned barn when I was fifteen. My parents caught me sneaking back into the house and weren’t very happy at all. I think my dad took pleasure at waking me up at the crack of dawn the next day to make me do my chores, even though I’d spent most of the night throwing up all the terrible beer that I drank.”

“Sounds like your dad was kind of a hard-ass.”

“No, more like extremely protective and always wanting to make sure I learned my lesson.” It’s strange for Shepard to think back to her memories from Mindoir, especially those that involve her parents. That part of her life seems so far away from her now. “Around that same time I was dating this guy who my dad absolutely hated, and whenever came to pick me up to go out somewhere, my dad would usually be out on the porch conveniently cleaning his shotgun.”

“Oh my God.” Kaidan tries and fails to hold back his laughter. “I guess that explains where you get it from.”

“Get what from?” Shepard inquires.

“You know, how you kind of have a tendency of using your gun as a threat a lot more often than you should.”

She shoves him lightly. He braces a hand against the edge of the hot tub to avoid toppling over into the water. “I’m a soldier. That’s kind of my job. My dad, on the other hand, was a goddamn farmer.”

“Relax, I’m just teasing you.” Kaidan presses a kiss to her cheek. She shifts position slightly so that she can rest her head on his shoulder.

“I guess in a lot of ways I do take after my dad, though,” she says. “Everyone used to say that I looked exactly like my mom, but I had the same stubbornness and strong will as my dad. He called it the ‘Shepard spirit.’ I think that was why he was so hard on me sometimes, because he knew how much I was like him.” Shepard delves further into the best memories she has of her father: learning how to shoot from him, stargazing together on clear nights, the conversation they’d had hours before the batarian raid when he’d acknowledged that she didn’t want to stay on Mindoir forever and encouraged her to start thinking about applying to colleges on Earth. She’s sure that her current path in life is much different than he or her mother would have expected, but she’s equally certain that he would be proud nonetheless.

“You know,” Shepard continues on, “I think he’d be happy that the Shepard name is known throughout the galaxy now.”

“Of course he would.” Kaidan tightens his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sure that wherever your parents are, they’re looking at what you’ve accomplished and thinking about how proud they are of you.”

“Yeah. Definitely.” She allows herself one final moment of nostalgia about her life with her parents before pushing forward. “Now that I think about it,” she says, lifting her head from his shoulder, “you’d probably have hated my first boyfriend too. He was two years older than me and rode a motorcycle.”

“Seriously?” Kaidan laughs. “I didn’t think you’d go for the bad boy stereotype.”

“Hey, don’t tell me you never had a thing for an older guy who made you feel a little bit adventurous,” she teases. “But yeah, I guess I eventually grew out of that phase. Now my type’s more ‘sexy biotic with a great ass.’” She runs a hand along his jawline, hooking a finger under his chin to indicate that this type of man is right in front of her.

“Oh, really?” The corners of Kaidan’s mouth turn up into a smug smile.

“Him being a Spectre doesn’t hurt either. I like men with authority.”

“Good to know.” He leans forward to kiss her briefly. “And I guess if I had to choose a type, it would be redheaded commanders who know how to handle a gun. Uh, not necessarily in a sexual way,” he clarifies, realizing his unintentional innuendo. “And they have adorable freckles too.”

She scrunches up her face in playful irritation when he taps a finger to her nose. “I’m not adorable.”

“Some people would beg to differ, Commander.”

“And let me guess, you’re ‘some people.’” She is the one to kiss him this time, letting her lips linger on his long enough for her pulse to quicken in anticipation of further intimacy. “All right,” she says once she has pulled away from him. “But you’re the only one allowed to call me adorable, got that?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Despite the official sound of his words, Kaidan’s voice is distinctly flirtatious. One of his hands dips below the water to touch her, skimming up her side before cupping around a breast. He kisses her again, slowly and madly passionate so that she is left longing for more.

Before they can progress into anything more intimate, the measured, robotic tone of Glyph’s voice pulls them out of the moment. “Commander,” he says. “Dr. T’Soni wishes to speak to you. She is on her way to the apartment.”

“Did she say it was important?” Shepard wonders if Glyph’s synthetic mind can process the implications of what he has intruded upon.

“Of course, Commander. I am very good at following instructions, and you instructed me only to interrupt you if you needed to attend to something important.”

She sighs. “All right. Tell her it’s fine for her to come over.” As Glyph floats out of the room to report back to Liara, Shepard reluctantly steps out of the hot tub. “Should’ve known it wouldn’t be long until visitors start showing up,” she says to Kaidan.

“It’s okay,” he assures her. “We have the whole rest of shore leave to be together.”

Shepard grabs a towel to dry herself off. The cool air of the bathroom makes her shiver after having been submerged in the warm waters of the hot tub. “You can stay in here if you want to relax some more. Hopefully this won’t take long.”

She crouches down at the edge of the hot tub to kiss him one more time before she finishes drying off and redresses herself. By the time she has left the room, she hears Liara’s voice on her comm telling her that she is approaching the apartment, and so she tells Glyph to let her in.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Liara says once she has entered the apartment.

“Not really,” replies Shepard. Bringing up how she had been in the hot tub with Kaidan will only make the situation awkward. “Glyph said there was something important you wanted to talk about?”

“Yes. Maybe…” Liara hesitates. “Maybe we could sit down somewhere?”

“Sure,” Shepard says. She hopes Liara’s request is more out of courtesy and not because she is about to receive unsettling information.

They enter the living room on the ground floor and seat themselves on one of the couches. Without any further introduction about what she is going to say, Liara delves directly into the the issue that has brought her to the apartment.

“You’re probably wondering how that clone knew everything about you, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, actually,” Shepard replies. “I was going to ask you if you knew anything about it, but I figured it could wait until after shore leave.”

“I’m afraid I’m at fault as to why the clone was able to use discussion of your past experiences to emotionally get to you.” Liara’s hands entwine together on her lap, her fingers twisting together in a nervous motion. “You remember how I told you that I was the one to give your body to Cerberus after it was located on Alchera. That… wasn’t the only thing I gave them.”

Shepard wonders why she hadn’t considered this possibility earlier. When she’d briefly considered the most likely reasons why the clone was able to speak so authoritatively about her experiences, she thought it most likely came from sources that Cerberus had gathered themselves.

“Did Cerberus ask you for information about me?” she inquires.

“Yes,” Liara confirms. “They wanted to know everything. I didn’t want to do it, but they left me with little choice. I gathered the information over the course of several months. Some of it was easy to find. Your service record, for example. Cerberus could have easily obtained that without my aid. But then I started delving deeper. Through the connections I found with the files of Lieutenant Commander Elijah Ryan, a man that you had briefly served with, I was able to discover the name of the Alliance facility that you lived at before entering the military. And from there I was able to piece together information about your earlier history.”

So when Liara had said “everything,” she had truly meant everything. If she knows about Ryan and the Alliance facility, it is not hard to imagine what details she could have extrapolated from that information.

“It became almost an obsession,” Liara continues on. “You kept so much about your personal life private that I felt like I had to continue finding out about your history. But the more I found, the more terrible I felt for intruding upon your privacy. Especially when the pieces of information became more than records of your existence. Things like confidential transcripts of various therapy and counseling sessions in which you discussed what you had endured during the raid on Mindoir. Or records from your stay in a hospital from a life-threatening overdose of prescription pills.”

The knowledge that Liara knows everything about the dark period of Shepard’s life hits her much harder that she would have expected. She has always been aware of the file that Liara has on her, stored away with the information about countless other beings in the galaxy, but it isn’t until now that she considers how extensive that file may be. Liara’s confession that she has deliberately tracked down the information makes the situation even worse. She imagines Liara in her office on Illium, poring over the records that she and her agents have recovered regarding Shepard’s teenage years. It’s as if Shepard had become the latest subject in Liara’s archeological research as she dug through Shepard’s past.

“And Cerberus didn’t tell you what they would use the information for?” she asks, pushing aside the unpleasant emotions that linger from Liara’s latest revelation.

“No,” says Liara. “My main priority was ensuring that your body entered safe hands, and if it meant selling information about you to Cerberus, it was a price I was willing to pay. And I have tried to forget what I learned in those files, but it has proven difficult.” She smiles ruefully. “I have now found that I dislike delving too deeply into information pertaining to those whom I know. It is unfair that the deepest secrets about the ones I care about are available right at my fingertips, allowing me to know them by virtue of my work, not because of trust and emotional bonds. I hope…” Liara hesitates once more before continuing on. “I hope you can forgive me for both knowing your secrets and giving them to Cerberus.”

Shepard’s immediate reaction is not as simple as she would like. Her initial thought is the understandable shock that during all the times that she has interacted with Liara since her resurrection, Liara has known everything about her, the things that no one in her crew knew about until recently. Her secondary reaction is less directly emotional, reminding herself that if Liara had not done this, her body would have ended up in Collector hands and the galaxy’s fate would be much grimmer right now.

“You did what you had to do,” Shepard says, letting her rational response win out over her emotional reaction. “I mean, none of us are the biggest fans of Cerberus right now, but back then we had no idea what horrible things they were up to on the side. And I’m sure if they hadn’t gotten the information from you, they would have found other ways to get it. I mean, it’s not like I’m free from guilt either when it comes to working with Cerberus. So I can’t really blame you that much for doing what you did.”

“That is a relief to hear.” Liara breathes a quiet sigh. “Part of me told myself that I shouldn’t worry about it, but after the encounter with the clone, I realized that the consequences of giving Cerberus information about you were larger than I had originally anticipated.”

“Well, the clone’s gone now, and soon we’ll be taking out Cerberus too. We’re going to set things right in the galaxy, and then everything will be ready for us to destroy the Reapers. That’s the one thing that matters. Except,” Shepard adds, remembering that she’s not hard at work on the Normandy at the moment, “I guess right now relaxation should be our top priority.”

“Yes, of course.” Liara nods. “I only thought it would be fair for me to admit those things to you now, rather than continuing to conceal the secret or telling you later and adding to your stress.” She hesitates before continuing on. “Glyph told me you were spending time with Kaidan. I shouldn’t interrupt you any further.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you at some point tomorrow before the party,” says Shepard. “Enjoy the rest of your shore leave.”

“I will,” Liara assures her in polite response. After brief words of farewell, she leaves the apartment, and Shepard hurries upstairs to return to Kaidan.

“Everything taken care of?” he asks once she has entered the bathroom. He has moved his position in the hot tub, spreading himself out to take advantage of the open space of the water.

“Yeah.” She pulls off her clothing and places the shirt, pants, and underwear in a pile. “I’m all yours now.”

“Oh, really?” Kaidan’s smile will never stop being beautiful, even if it’s more like a flirtatious smirk. “Then maybe you should come in here, and we can, uh, get a little wet together.” He laughs, and the sound is largely self-deprecating. “Yeah, you’re right. I really do need to work on the dirty talk.”

“I think it’s charmingly terrible.” Shepard steps into the water. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, we were in the middle of something before I was untimely called away.”

“That we were.” He swims toward her, sneaking around her to grab her ass beneath the water. She giggles. She’s fairly certain that Kaidan is the only one who has heard her giggle in her adult life.

“Oh, I am _so_ getting you back for that.” She moves toward him, and soon they’re both laughing, splashing the warm water at each other like they’re children. They eventually settle things with a deep kiss, and all of their worries dissolve away as the relaxation of shore leave truly begins.


	19. Chapter 19

The second day of shore leave passes by much more uneventfully than the first, although Shepard continues to keep herself busy, spending time with her crew who all seem to have their own unique ideas of what constitutes relaxation. As the evening approaches, her initial plan is to go out to dinner with Kaidan before preparing for the party, but he surprises her by cooking a meal for her in the apartment. It’s nice to sit back and have someone else do the work for a change, even though she finds herself mentally correcting some of his cooking techniques. She only says something to him, though, when he starts burning the garlic in what he claims is a moment of distraction.

After they have finished dinner (and okay, maybe “dinner” also includes cuddling on the couch), Shepard begins the party preparations. She’s surprised at the number of people who can come; she’d sent the invitations out to her entire crew, past and present, but she’d expected that those who aren’t on the Normandy wouldn’t necessarily be able to come to the Citadel at a moment’s notice for a party. They’ve all said that they can come, though, and she’s glad that she will have an opportunity to see them again not in the context of whatever galactic catastrophe has brought her to them.

Thanks to Glyph’s surprising proficiency at party planning, everything is going smoothly by the time all the guests have arrived. It’s strange having everyone here all at once, and it’s even stranger when Shepard realizes that some of her past crew have never met her present crew, due to the general lack of crew overlap between the Normandy’s Alliance and Cerberus days. As she mingles between the different groups, though, she is pleased to see that everyone is getting along and having fun--perhaps too much fun, she thinks as she sees all the emptied bottles of alcohol.

A few hours into the party, after Shepard has escorted a rather drunk Tali out of one of the bathrooms, she decides to check in with Kaidan, who she hasn’t seen since about half an hour previously when a debate about biotic power versus physical strength had resulted in a pushup contest between him, James, and Jacob. She soon finds him upstairs drinking with Garrus and Liara.

“Hey, Shepard,” he greets her, grinning broadly and raising his bottle of beer in her direction.

“You doing all right there?” she asks. He seems sufficiently drunker than he had been when she had last checked in on him.

“I’m fantastic.” he assures her. “Better than Garrus, at least.” He nods in Garrus’s direction. “He won’t stop talking about this one time that he killed a quarian by coughing on him.”

“I did what I had to do.” The wavering subvocals of Garrus’s voice make his slightly slurred words sound even more intoxicated.

Liara shakes her head. “You are so awful.”

“Anyway,” Kaidan says. “Do you need me for anything?”

“Well…” She leans close to him, lowering her voice to what she hopes will be quiet enough for Garrus and Liara to not overhear. “I saved us a bottle of whiskey in the master bedroom. And you told me to come find you whenever I’m not the boss, so… Let’s just say I’m in the mood to hand off some of the control to my major.”

“You know we can hear you, right?” says Liara.

Kaidan rapidly colors an amusing shade of red. Normally, Shepard would be equally as embarrassed, but the amount of alcohol that she has consumed throughout the night has left her tipsy enough to be less concerned about keeping private matters private.

“Sorry,” she replies to Liara. “Will you keep an eye on Garrus while we’re, uh, gone? I’ve already had a drunk krogan in one bathroom and a drunk quarian in another, and I really don’t want that number to increase.”

“I’ll be fine, Shepard.” Garrus waves a hand dismissively at her. The drink that he is holding sloshes a little.

She reaches out to steady his glass. “No drunk turians,” she insists as a final reminder.

“Yeah, yeah. Here’s a thought: I promise not to be a drunk turian if you two promise to not let the whole apartment hear you blowing off steam.”

“No promises there, big guy,” Shepard says with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder.

She nods to Kaidan, who is drinking the remainder of his beer bottle as a means of avoiding the embarrassing turn that the conversation has taken. He sets the now-emptied bottle down on a nearby table and follows her into the master bedroom.

“You know that it’s only a matter of time until the whole party knows that we’re, uh, off to have some alone time,” he points out.

“They’ll be too busy having fun to notice,” Shepard replies. “Besides, we shouldn’t be worrying about them now.”

They enter the bedroom and close the door behind them. The heavy beats of the background music echo into the room. Only now does Shepard touch him, coming up behind him and snaking one arm around his waist.

“Hey,” she whispers in his ear as her hand moves down closer to his ass.

“Hey yourself,” he murmurs in response, turning to face her. Their lips meet in a kiss. “So I was told there would be whiskey in here?”

“Sure. _That’s_ the thing you care about,” she teases. She pulls away from him, retrieving the bottle of whiskey and two glasses that she has stored away. “Thought we’d be wearing a lot less clothing when we’d be drinking this, to be honest.”

“Oh, really?” He chuckles, taking the filled glass that she offers him. “That, uh. That can be arranged.”

“Glad to hear it.” She pours herself a drink as well. “To one hell of a party,” she says before they clink their glasses together and drink.

“Good call on hiding drinks away in here,” Kaidan says. “Bet this bottle would be gone in ten minutes flat out there.”

“Have to save some of the good stuff for us, you know. Should I pour us some more?”

“No,” he replies, “no, I think I’d rather keep myself, ah, _lucid_ for this.”

He leans in to kiss her again. The taste of beer and liquor in his mouth is intoxicating in more ways than one. She reaches out in a blind motion to set down her glass on the nearby bedstand so that she can pull him closer, savoring the taste of him. She has kissed him countless times by now, but she will never tire of the sensation of his lips on hers, his tongue hungrily tracing the contours of her mouth. She likes every aspect of the physical side of their relationship, of course, but kissing him has to be close to the top of her “Favorite Things to Do With Kaidan” list.

A quiet clink tells her that he has set his glass aside as well. His hands soon rest on the small of her back, sliding under the two layers of her sweatshirt and tank top to stroke her bare skin. She’d thought that their encounter was going to be nothing more than quick sex, but it’s becoming abundantly clear that with this, like he does with everything, Kaidan is going to take his time. It’s really no fault but her own, though. She is the one who has put him in charge of the situation, and she can’t deny that having him in control is kind of hot.

He unzips her sweatshirt, pulling the fabric down over her shoulders. He presses warm kisses to the skin that he has revealed, drawing out a quiet sigh of appreciation from between her lips. She has barely finished shrugging off her sweatshirt before he pulls up the hem of her shirt, and she obligingly lifts up her arms so he can pull it over her head. Soon both items of clothing along with her bra have been discarded at the foot of the bed.

“You know, if we don’t speed this up soon, they’re definitely going to notice that we’re gone,” she points out.

Kaidan looks up from where he has been lavishing kisses across her collarbone, occasionally dipping down to let his lips touch the space between her breasts. “Yeah, all right,” he admits. “Guess I’m getting distracted.”

“Seems like a common theme for the day.” She undoes her pants and slides them down over her legs to hurry things along.

“Trust me, Shepard, you’re the best kind of distraction I could ask for.” His smile elicits a small jump in the pit of her stomach, especially when he covers her mouth with one more kiss.

They finish undressing with military efficiency, their clothing thrown together in a haphazard pile. He gently pushes her down onto the bed, and she scoots back to lean against the pillows as his mouth traces a path down her body. Her hands settle on his back, and she digs her fingernails into his skin with a sharp gasp as his lips round the curve of her hip to touch her inner thigh.

In true Kaidan fashion, he lingers there for a while, teasing her with light touches, almost-but-not-quite approaching the much more sensitive skin between her legs. She sits up further so that she can tangle her hands into his hair. A spark of static electricity discharges against her fingers from the buildup of his biotic energy. She’s unsure if the tremble that passes through her body is the result of that or from the motion of his tongue against her skin.

“Kaidan, please--” The rest of her plea is lost in a deep moan as he runs his tongue along the length of her folds. When he eventually swirls his tongue across her clit, she cries out, arching her head back and closing her eyes. Her fingers press deeper into his scalp, and she feels his breath of satisfaction against her skin in response. A coil of arousal builds up inside her, leaving her breathless and shaking from the motion of Kaidan’s mouth.

“Don’t stop,” she begs, and she pulls harder on Kaidan’s hair to urge him on as he continues. Time stands still while she loses herself in the moment, until she’s hovering on the brink of orgasm. A few more flicks of his tongue and she comes undone, a breathy moan escaping from between her lips as the tension that has built up crashes down. She lies back on the bed, savoring each pulse of release until they slow.

She’s aware of Kaidan shifting position so that he can run a hand through her hair as her breathing slows. “Maybe I should have you call the shots more often,” she murmurs. He hadn’t done anything new to her, but something about her knowing that she is entirely at his mercy is a definite turn-on for her.

“Well, nobody said it has to be over now.” Kaidan continues to rake his fingers through her hair. In response, Shepard closes her eyes in contentment. She is going to need a moment to recover before they move on to further sexual activity.

The sound of distant splashing from the bathroom, however, soon pulls her out of the moment. Opening her eyes with a frown, she realizes the likely source of the noise.

“Someone’s in the hot tub,” she says, irritated that someone is using the hot tub without her permission and embarrassed that whoever it is now knows what their commanding officer sounds like during sex.

“So that means that they’ve heard--” Kaidan’s cheeks soon redden at the realization that they have been practically putting on a show for whomever is in the next room. “Shit.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll go kick them out.” Shepard reluctantly gets up from the bed. She takes her bathrobe from the closet and wraps it around herself before entering the bathroom.

She doesn’t know which of her guests she expects to find, but if she had to take a guess, James and Cortez would not be at the top of her list. Yet here they are, sitting in the hot tub with the unmistakable looks of people who have gotten caught in the act. She cannot immediately determine whether they’re guilty of more than merely using the hot tub, but seeing them sitting very close together gives her a fairly good idea of what she has walked in on.

“Uh, hey, Lola,” says James, laughing nervously. He scooches further away from Cortez, prompting an eyebrow raise from Shepard.

“Well, well,” she says, crossing her arms in front of her and surveying the two men with amusement. “What do we have here?”

“Nothing, Commander,” Cortez replies, his response coming a little too quickly for it to be fully truthful.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s just, you know, two guys hanging out in a hot tub. Uh, not in, like, a gay way or anything,” James adds hastily. “I mean, not that there’s anything _wrong_ with that.” He gives another nervous laugh. “Esteban and I are just buddies. That’s all.”

Shepard is surprised that Cortez hasn’t told him off for his words yet. She sees straight through the blatant denial of James’s response, however.

“You know, I was always hoping that you two would get together,” she teases.

“We’re not together,” James and Cortez say in unison. The rapidity of this response does nothing to dispel her suspicions.

“Right. Whatever you say.” She jerks a thumb behind her. “Out.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it.” James sighs in exasperation. “Your room’s occupado right now. Dios mio, what was Kaidan doing to you to make you moan like--”

Shepard doesn’t like to think of herself as someone who blushes like an embarrassed schoolgirl, but James’s words make her a little too heated in the face for her liking. “You know, Vega,” she interrupts him before he can finish that thought, covering her embarrassment with a playful threat, “I think a lot of people out there would be very interested to hear about what I found here--”

“We’ll be right out,” Cortez says. “And, uh, don’t mention this to anyone.”

“Hey, whatever you two do on your own time is your business. Just keep it out of my hot tub next time.”

“Aye-aye, ma’am,” they both reply at once, always quick to follow orders.

With a nod of approval, she leaves the bathroom to let them get out of the hot tub and redress in relative privacy. When she returns to the bedroom, she finds Kaidan under the blankets of the bed to cover himself up.

“They’re on their way out,” she reports back to him. “And hey, don’t get too comfortable under there.” She climbs up onto the bed, leaning forward to give him a brief kiss.

James and Cortez emerge from the bathroom soon after, both of them deliberately avoiding Shepard and Kaidan’s eyes as they pass through the bedroom. Once they have closed the door behind them to return to the party, Kaidan says, “So, uh, James and Steve. Huh.”

“You don’t sound all that surprised.” Shepard runs a hand along the region of his chest not covered by the blanket.

He gives a slight laugh. “Maybe I’m better at noticing sexual tension between guys.”

“Speaking of sexual tension…” She pulls her robe off her shoulders, exposing her body to him once more. “I believe we were in the middle of something.”

“That we were.” He laughs again, a throaty chuckle. “But, uh…” He looks a little sheepish. “Might take a while to, you know, get the mood going again. And I think everyone else is going to notice if we’re gone for much longer.”

“Not even going to let me return the favor?” Shepard reaches under the blanket, running a hand down his body until she finds his cock. She pumps it slowly with her hand.

A quiet breath leaves his lips. “Whatever happened to letting me be the boss?” he teases. “Besides, I think if we take into account all the things that we’ve done together, I think everything already evens out.”

“You’ve been keeping score, Major?” Her response is equally teasing. She continues to stroke him, but his body is slow to respond. Clearly he had meant it when he’d said that it would take a while to get back in the mood. “But I guess I can take a rain check for now.”

“Probably better to save sex for when we’re not mildly intoxicated in the middle of a party,” Kaidan agrees.

Shepard murmurs in assent. Her hand moves out from beneath the blanket, and she kisses his cheek. “We’ll get at least one more time in before shore leave’s over,” she promises.

Kaidan’s response of “I’ll hold you to that” follows her as she gets up from the bed, extracting her clothes from the pile that they’d created earlier. They both put their clothes back on pulling shirts over their heads and tugging pants over their legs.

They leave the bedroom together. Ordinarily Shepard would be concerned about this looking suspicious to the others, but the majority of people here know they are in a relationship anyway. They find Garrus and Liara in the second floor lounge where they had left them, although now they have been joined by Tali. She is in slightly better shape than she’d been in when Shepard had found her in the bathroom, but the way that she clings to Garrus suggests that standing upright isn’t exactly an easy thing for her right now. Garrus is no better, judging by how he sways slightly from side to side as she approaches him.

“Well, you two are looking a little worse for wear,” she says.

“We’re fine,” Garrus insists. The way he slurs out the two words doesn’t convince her.

“He’s very fine,” Tali adds. She pats the front of his armor affectionately--because of course Garrus would wear his armor to a party. He has told Shepard that he feels naked without it. “You big beautiful bosh’tet,” she adds fondly to him.

Shepard arches an eyebrow at them. Recently she has started to suspect that there is something going on between Garrus and Tali, but she doesn’t yet have any proof beyond what appears to be nothing more than drunken flirting. She makes a mental count of how many couples may exist among the crew of the Normandy. Her and Kaidan plus Joker and EDI are definite, and now perhaps James and Cortez and Garrus and Tali have joined that number too. That’s not even counting the junior staff, either--she has always suspected that Donnelly and Daniels from engineering have something between them as well. Realizing that so many people have formed such meaningful relationships with their fellow crew members heartens her. These relationships don’t necessarily have to be romantic, either. In particular, she thinks about her friendship with Garrus. She wouldn’t trade that for anything else in the galaxy.

Glyph hovers over to them. Shepard expects him to inquire whether she needs him to change anything regarding the party’s atmosphere, but instead he turns toward Tali and Garrus. Unless Shepard is mistaken, a sound that sounds distinctly like the snapping of a camera emits from him.

“Glyph, what are you doing?” she asks.

“Dr. T’Soni instructed me to preserve visual data of various occurrences at the party,” he replies.

“I did nothing of the sort.” Liara shakes her head in denial, pretending to sound offended.

When Glyph moves to face her, Shepard preemptively shields her face with her hands so that he cannot capture her face in the photograph. “Oh God, no. You take my picture, and I have no idea where it’ll end up.”

“Perhaps you would care for another memento of this evening,” Glyph suggests. “My cameras can easily support a group photograph.”

“Yeah, good idea.” A group picture is infinitely better than unflattering candid shots, and Shepard already knows that it will look good framed on her desk.

“Please gather everyone by the living room couch when you are ready.”

“Thanks, Glyph.” She turns to Kaidan. “You gather everyone upstairs, and I’ll handle downstairs?”

He nods. “Sure thing.”

Shepard heads downstairs, where most of the people at the party are located. “Hey, everyone!” she calls. “Come over here for a minute!”

The advantage of having to give orders to people on a regular basis is that everyone who has served under her command is very much attuned to the sound of her voice. Her guests assemble more quickly than she has anticipated, and she directs them to arrange themselves on the couch once everyone has arrived.

“This some kind of family picture?” Jack asks from somewhere behind Shepard.

“Yeah, I guess you could call it that.” Shepard sits in the middle of the couch next to Kaidan. “You guys are pretty much my family, after all.”

“Aw, can we stop with the sappiness and take the picture?” Joker grumbles.

“Come on, Joker, you know you like it,” Shepard teases. “Anyway, I just want to thank you all for coming tonight. Here’s to us, the best family I could ever ask for.” She turns to smile at Kaidan, knowing that he out of everyone here best understands why it is so important that she has found a family in the Normandy’s crew. “Ready, Glyph?”

“Of course.” Glyph eagerly hovers toward the group. “If you could all please direct your attention this way…”

“Okay,” says Shepard. “Everyone say ‘Normandy’!”

The chorus of “Normandy!” resounds around her. She grins broadly as this moment of happiness is forever preserved, a snapshot reminding her that no matter what is in store for her next, she has the full support of her crew behind her.


	20. Chapter 20

Reality hits Shepard harder than she would expect after a few days of shore leave. Once she is aboard the Normandy again, she is more overworked than ever as she prepares for the attack on Cerberus’s base. Her communication with Hackett makes her realize that they are rapidly approaching what could be a decisive moment in the war. The assault to retrieve the Prothean VI that Cerberus possesses is the first step to the final fight against the Reapers, and the Alliance’s Fifth Fleet is already assembling to serve as a distraction while Shepard enters the base.

When the Normandy is a few hours out from the base on Cronos Station, and Shepard has instructed Traynor to let her know when Hackett calls with the confirmation that the fleets have assembled, she sits at her desk with an endless array of datapads spread in front of her. It’s late by the timekeeping standards on the ship, and so she has forgone her uniform in favor of her standard sleepwear of a T-shirt and loose shorts. The shirt is Kaidan’s; he’d left it here a while back. It’s a little big for her, but it smells so much like him that she can’t bear to give it back.

She should be getting some rest, since she doesn’t know when she’ll have a chance to sleep again. However, her obligation to check and double-check everything that needs to be organized for this assault keeps her awake. Her coffee mug is now empty, leaving her yawning widely as she internally debates with herself whether she should continue working or let everything be and go to sleep.

The quiet ping of her omni-tool, alerting her that someone has come up to the cabin, stops this debate. Shepard already suspects who is on the other side of the door, and so she stands up and walks over to manually unlock it. The datapad that she has been reading is still clutched in her hand.

When the door opens, Kaidan is standing on the other side. He holds a bottle of wine and two glasses. The look on his face is hesitant, as if he’s unsure whether he should be interrupting her at a time like this.

“Can’t sleep either?” he inquires.

She shakes her head. “No.” She stands to the side so that he can enter the room.

“Making yourself crazy like this won’t help,” he says, nodding to the datapad in her hand.

Shepard watches him pass through the doorway. His presence is never unwelcome here, of course, but with so much for her to do she is not sure how much time she can take to spend with him. The distraction of wine and company is certainly tempting, though.

“Kaidan, I need to--” she begins.

“Shh.” He holds a hand up to stop her, and the rest of her statement dies away. “Just take five minutes. A quick drink. Then I’ll go.”

If Shepard knows Kaidan, though, it will be much more than a quick drink. She agrees anyway, however, and walks over to join him. As he pours the drinks, she glances down at the datapad in her hand. Nothing has changed on it, but an update on the numbers and figures that will determine her strategical planning could come in at any moment.

“You know you’ve done everything you could, right?”

Shepard feels Kaidan’s eyes on her, and she looks up to see a small frown resting upon his lips, an expression that shows his feelings more than his words ever could. At his quiet words of concern, Shepard finally puts the datapad down on her desk.

“I hope so,” she replies, accepting the glass of wine that her has poured for her. “I keep running the numbers to see if I’ve missed something.”

“You don’t have to take this all on yourself,” he reminds her. “Look to your crew, to the talented people fighting by your side. No one is ever expecting you to be able to handle something this important by yourself. I mean, what you’ve accomplished since the Reapers arrived, it… It’s nothing short of amazing. But that doesn’t mean you have to be alone in this.”

Shepard takes the wine bottle from him and sets it on her desk next to her empty mug. They sit down on the couch together, and she sips from her glass. She isn’t sure how well alcohol will help her stay awake, but the surprisingly sweet taste of the wine refreshes her.

“I know,” she replies to his statement. She doesn’t quite believe the words that come out of her mouth, though. All of the confident words in the world won’t be able to dispel that quiet, lurking feeling of self-doubt hiding away in her mind.

“It’s going to be…” Kaidan trails off into silence. The only sound in the room is the quiet hum of the filter in the aquarium. “It’s going to be what it is.”

He takes a drink. Shepard recognizes the distant look in his eyes and the slight creases in his forehead that indicate that he is deep in thought.

“What are you thinking about right now?” she prompts him.

“Oh, the good times,” he says. “And the hard times.” He gives a slight chuckle. “It’s been an unforgettable few years.”

Shepard knows this feeling all too well. Sometimes, it is hard for her to believe that three years have passed since she became the commanding officer of the Normandy. It seems like only yesterday that Anderson had passed control of the ship into what he had assured her were her very capable hands. On the other hand, when she thinks back to the early days of her relationship with Kaidan--the first time they kissed, the first time they slept together, the first time they admitted their love--it seems like it was a lifetime ago. For her, though, it _was_ a lifetime ago. Coming back from the dead is a funny thing like that.

“I’ll never forget the first night we bunked together,” Shepard replies, continuing Kaidan’s nostalgic line of thought. It’s certainly better than talking about the enormous task ahead of them.

“Yeah, of course not.” He laughs. “That was, uh, pretty spectacular, if I remember right.” His last words carry an inescapably suggestive tone.

Shepard murmurs in agreement. It _had_ been spectacular, even though it had been far from perfect. Kaidan had sheepishly admitted to her beforehand that although he was sexually experienced with men, this would be his first time with a woman, and at the time Shepard herself hadn’t been with anyone for a while either. For her, the most important part was that for the first time, she was with someone who she’d fallen in love with (although at the time she may have been reluctant to say “love”). Even now, the emotional connection between her and Kaidan during sex is equally as essential as the physical connection.

She takes another drink. The alcohol soothes her, reminding her that she shouldn’t spend these last few hours working. Now that Kaidan is here, she needs to savor the moment that she has with. As much as she doesn’t want to think about it, these may be some of the last moments they have to themselves. Once the Normandy arrives at the Cerberus headquarters, she has no idea what is going to happen. The tide of the war may take her with it, and she has to accept that possibility.

“You’re exactly what I need right now, Kaidan,” she murmurs, moving her free hand to rest on his thigh. He responds to her touch by reaching forward to run a hand across her cheek before kissing her. His other hand settles at the back of her neck, pulling her deeper into her kiss. Shepard’s quiet noise of approval becomes lost in his mouth.

“I lied,” Kaidan admits once he has pulled away from her. He touches his forehead to hers briefly, and his thumb traces a tiny circle into the underside of her chin. “I didn’t come here for a quick drink.”

Shepard could have told him “I know” or “You’re the best distraction I could ask for,” but she is too caught up in the ghost of his lips on hers to say anything. Instead, she lets her actions speak for her, putting a hand to his shoulder to gently push him back on the couch. She shifts her body to sit astride him, and he takes hold of the curve her hips in a light grip.

“I can’t tell you how much you mean to me. What this means to me,” she murmurs. She maps the contour of his jawline with a finger. “I love you so much.”

“I’ve always loved you.” Kaidan’s reply is equally soft. “Through all these years, through… through everything.” A quiet breath, not quite a sigh, leaves his lips. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

The corners of his mouth turn up into a smile. Shepard promptly covers that smile with her own lips to capture him in another kiss. She wants to feel him with every fiber of her being, running her hands through his hair to convince herself that he’s here with her and letting the tense muscles of her back relax as his arms wrap around her.

When they pull away from each other, Shepard lets go of his shoulders. He promptly takes hold of her hands and encircles them in his grip--not demanding, but rather pleading.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says. “Where’re you going?”

Shepard meets his eyes and sees how much he longs for her. She understands his desire for her, and his presence in the cabin is as intoxicating as the alcohol that they are drinking. She longs to feel the warmth of his bare skin pressed against hers while they take these last few hours before the start of the assault to reaffirm the emotions that remind them that they are alive.

“All right,” she agrees. “But I feel like there’s something about sex before important events. Can’t remember whether it’s supposed to be a good idea or bad idea.”

“Shh.” Kaidan presses a finger against her lips. “For us, it’s definitely a good idea. It’ll help you relax a little.” His other hand rubs her shoulder in a light massage.

“Depends on how we’re doing it,” Shepard whispers in a seductive murmur, her lips close to his ear.

A quiet sound of appreciation leaves his lips. “Come here,” he says before he kisses her one more time. He pulls her body closer to him so that they are flush against each other, and a slight giggle escapes from her as he stands up to carry her to the bed. She wraps her legs tightly around him to keep herself balanced, and her hands clasp together at the back of his neck.

He sets her down on the bed, and they help each other undress. Usually, sex between them contains a certain degree of urgency because there is always something else that needs to be done: missions, paperwork, calls. Now, however, they can take her time with no consequences. Her relationship with Kaidan has been one of the things that has sustained her throughout this war, and now she will use the memories she has of this night and all the nights that came before it to carry her through the attack against Cerberus.

She gently pushes Kaidan back onto the bed, taking in the sight of his body before easing her weight on top of him, kissing him with unrestrained passion. She knows his body well by now, knows the taste of his mouth and the contours of his muscles beneath her hands, but even well-explored territory can bring surprises. He bites down on her lower lip before flipping her onto her back to take control. His lips trail a path down her neck, eventually settling at her breasts. She arches her back with a soft hum of approval when he traces his tongue across one of her nipples.

Every touch between them as they continue on is measured and deliberate: his hand pressing gently against her stomach as his mouth traces the lines of her body, the mutual shift of position as she strokes a finger along the length of his cock before pressing her lips to it, the gentle pressure of his thumb on her clit, the quiet communication that passes between them as they urge each other on. Shepard has never been happier to take her time as she treasures every moment between them. All of it is familiar, trusting, and for the thousandth time she thanks whatever higher powers are out there that she has been able to find love and support with someone like Kaidan.

She is nearly aching with desire by the time their bodies merge. She lets him maintain most of the control, and this time it’s different from when she had let him be in charge of their sexual encounters on the night of the party during shore leave. At that time, it had been about Kaidan being in control, but now, it is more about Shepard giving up control. With everything about the war coming to a head soon, she wants there to be a time when she isn’t in charge. She wants to enjoy something without being the one calling the shots, and that is why she allows Kaidan to take control as he spreads her legs apart and slowly eases himself into her.

He leans forward to kiss her, keeping his thrusts slow and shallow until they build up a good rhythm. Shepard tilts her hips up to draw him in deeper to her, wanting to feel every inch of him inside of her. Her hands settle on his back, her fingernails clenching into his skin when she can no longer hold back the cries of pleasure that escapes from her. He murmurs her name in response, and the static energy of the biotic corona that flares around him tickles against her skin.

Kaidan climaxes first, his weight collapsing down onto her as he gives a soft moan of satisfaction. Shepard lets him catch his breath before he pulls out of her.

“How close are you?” he asks as he eases his body off hers. He moves to lie beside her, his hand traveling in a slow path down her stomach and across her pelvis until it dips between her legs.

“Probably won’t take long,” she replies, kissing him briefly.

The heat of arousal that extends from her belly to her groin increases when he gently slides a finger inside her. A second finger soon joins it, and he curls the two fingers forward as her muscles clench around them. Shepard makes a sound of contentment as he slowly pumps his fingers, driving her closer to the edge. She closes her eyes as the tension in her lower body reaches its peak, and soon it releases in a burst that leaves her gasping for breath. She lays still, feeling warm and sated as her heartbeat slows. Kaidan presses tender kisses to her face, entwining one of her hands with his while she rides out the aftershocks of her orgasm.

After they have cleaned themselves up, they return to the bed, holding each other close. The exhaustion that Shepard has tried to fend off before Kaidan’s arrival returns to her in full force, leaving her yawning sleepily within the embrace of his arms.

“Tired?” he inquires.

“Mm. A little.” She shifts so that she can nuzzle her face into his chest. “Was that your diabolical scheme? Get me into bed to tire me out so that I’d get some sleep?”

“I’d never do anything of the sort.” Kaidan kisses the top of her head. “But if you want to sleep, you’ve still got a couple of hours until the call comes. Might be a good idea.”

“You’ll stay with me, right?” Shepard runs a hand up and down his chest, taking comfort in the familiar feel of his body. She has never explicitly stated it to him, but she has always slept the soundest when he is next to her. His presence doesn’t keep the nightmares away, of course, but having his body as a comforting warmth in the bed with her helps calm her back to sleep when dreams startle her awake.

“Of course I will,” he assures her. His fingers comb through her hair in a soothing motion. “I’ll sleep better here than in my bunk, anyway.”

She murmurs in acknowledgement of his words. “Let me grab my shirt. Well, your shirt, technically. You want anything to put on?”

“Just underwear is fine,” he replies.

Shepard gets up from the bed and searches the floor for the clothes that they’d left there when they had undressed. She tosses Kaidan’s boxer-briefs to him and pulls the T-shirt that she’d been wearing over her head. After putting on her underwear as well, she climbs back into bed, using her omni-tool to dim the overhead lights in the cabin. She pulls the blankets over her and Kaidan, snuggling close to him once again.

“It’ll be fine, you know,” Kaidan murmurs, addressing her unspoken lingering fear about the forthcoming mission.

“I know.” Shepard curls her legs closer to her body. She wishes that there were an easier way to convince herself that everything will turn out all right. If a secret method of doing so exists, though, she suspects she would have found it a long time ago.

“Sleep well,” Kaidan says, kissing the top of her head one more time.

“You too.”

She closes her eyes, and the gentle grip of sleep soon pulls her under.

* * *

Shepard awakens from yet another nightmare about the boy and the forest with the distinct, pressing feeling that she may very possibly die soon. It’s different from the suffocating thoughts of “oh my God, I can’t breathe, I’m going to die” that she gets during panic attacks. This feeling is subtler, closer to a hard-to-port realization of her own mortality. She’d felt the same way before the suicide mission through the Omega-4 relay and before confronting Saren on Ilos. Even after several close brushes with death and one actual death, the thought of dying continues to terrify her. She tells herself what Kaidan has told her on previous occasions, that fearing death is a natural reaction, but she can’t stop her heart from pounding in an anxious rhythm.

She turns to look at the clock and discovers that a little over an hour has passed since she went to sleep. She rubs a hand across her eyes, staring up at the stars visible through the skylight. The way that they move above her tells her that they’re still flying, hurtling toward their destination. It would be best for her to close her eyes and get a little more sleep, but the lingering images from her dream keep her awake. The dream had been different this time: instead of endlessly chasing the boy, she’d followed him to his destination, where he had run to embrace a figure who had turned out to be another version of her. The other Shepard had smiled at her before flames erupted around her and the boy, and soon after that she woke up. Shepard has no idea what all of it means, and that makes the images even more unsettling.

She moves to sit up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Beside her, Kaidan shifts slightly in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake up. She leans forward, bracing her hands against her knees as she exhales deeply. Her shoulders sag down with the release of tension.

The sound of movement behind her tells her that her hope that she won’t wake Kaidan has gone unfulfilled. “What’s up?” he asks, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Are we gonna make it, Kaidan?” Her words are soft, vulnerable. She doesn’t turn to look at him.

“We’re ready,” he assures her. She feels his hand on the small of her back, and the gesture of comfort gives her the strength to meet his eyes. “You’ve put the people together, the vision--and what you’ve done, Shepard, is bring hope.”

The way that he looks at her is so gentle and reassuring that her heart aches with the knowledge of how much he believes in her. No matter now much support he gives her, however, she cannot quell the lurking feeling that nothing she does will be enough.

“I’m glad I can inspire that in you,” she says, “but sometimes…”

She trails off there, unable to properly articulate her overwhelming doubt in her abilities. Whenever she speaks such thoughts aloud, she always feels like she can’t express them without sounding like she is asking to be told that she wouldn’t be in this position if she wasn’t believed to be capable. She _knows_ this, but no matter how much she is told, the doubt continues to seep into her mind. She also knows, however, that during times like this, she needs to silences the quiet whispers of uncertainty and put on a brave face to prove to others that she will win this war for the galaxy. Therefore, she stomps down on the fears and doubts that haunt her, trading hesitation for optimism.

“You’re right.” Shepard touches a hand to Kaidan’s cheek, letting it slide along his jawline and down his neck before stopping at his chest. “Give us hope and a fighting chance. Hell, the Reapers better watch themselves.” She cups his chin in her hand and leans forward to kiss him before pulling away.

“Where are you going?” he asks as she gets up from the bed and crosses the room to reach her desk.

“Getting something to drink.” Shepard takes her mug that is sticky with the residue of old coffee. She washes it out in the bathroom before filling it up at the water filter. The cold taste of the water refreshes her as she makes her way back to the bed. She props herself up against her pillows and pulls the blanket over her bare legs.

“Can I have a sip of that?” Kaidan inquires. Shepard obligingly passes the mug to him, and he takes a quick drink before handing it back to her. “Anything else on your mind?” he continues on, touching her shoulder.

Shepard doesn’t say anything. There really isn’t a way that she can vocalize her concerns of “this may be the last chance we have to be together like this.” If everything is timed right, the Normandy will be heading the counterattack on Earth as soon as Cerberus is taken care of. And from there, Shepard will become either the greatest living hero the galaxy has ever seen, or the tireless fighter who did not hesitate to sacrifice her life even if the situation looked hopeless. There is no in-between.

She thinks about Kaidan and whether he has thought about the possibility of her dying. It is the kind of thought that is inevitable when loved ones are constantly putting their lives on the line, but unlike most people, Kaidan is in the unique situation in that he has gone through her death before. Shepard can’t even begin to imagine how hard it had been for him, losing her unexpectedly with nothing of hers left behind for him to hold on to. Her dog tags, remnants of armor, and the mementos that had miraculously survived had all gone to Liara after she’d recovered the body, and by then the Normandy’s crew had grown so distant that she hadn’t thought to pass them on to Kaidan. Now, though, things are different. If she dies, it will be a death that she has willingly walked into, not one that came without warning. She has time to make sure he has more to remember her by than memories.

“Shepard?” he prompts her.

“I have something I want to give you,” she says. She sets her mug on the bedstand and stands up, walking with deliberate steps to her desk.

Most people who have not been inside her cabin don’t realize how sentimental she is, but once they see her desk, that fact becomes clear. She has a few framed photographs, the newest of which is the group picture from the party during shore leave, and in the display case in front of the desk is her collection of model ships, each of which represent a place that she has been. What she is looking for right now, though, is the case next to her terminal that contains her original dog tags that had been found with what had been left of her body on Alchera. She opens the case and takes out the tags. The weight of the metal feels so familiar in her hands, different from her new tags even though they are practically identical apart from the decade’s worth of wear and tear on the old tags. Shepard clutches them in her hand and returns to the bed.

“Here,” she says to Kaidan, pressing them into his hand. “My old tags,” she adds in explanation before he can question her. “I’ve held onto them ever since Liara gave them back to me, but I think you should keep them.”

“I--no, I can’t, Shepard.” He stares down at the worn metal. “I know how important these are to you.”

“I’m serious.” She scoots closer to him on the bed. Her hand rests above his right knee. “Listen, I don’t know how all of this is going to end, and--”

Kaidan shakes his head. “No. Don’t talk like that.” He clenches his hand around the old dog tags. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that,” he says again. His voice is barely above a whisper.

“I don’t want to think about it either,” Shepard admits. “I… God, you know how much it scares me to think about it. But I have to. _We_ have to.”

“Shepard…” His voice wavers when he says her name. When she looks into his eyes she almost expects to see tears there, but his face remains stoic. He presses his forehead against hers, cupping her cheeks with both of his hands. The tags remain in his grasp, and the metal presses against her skin.

“Just think of it as keeping them safe for me,” she says. “When all of this is over, when we’ve kicked the Reapers straight to hell, I’ll take them back. I promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” He kisses her, no more than a brief touch of his lips to hers, before letting go of her. The dog tags jangle together in his hand at his movement. “What time is it?” he asks, changing the subject with much more ease than Shepard expects.

“Still late. Hour, hour and a half until I hear from Hackett.” Shepard turns around to take her mug of water from where she has left it on the bedstand. She drinks the last few sips from it. “You should get some more sleep,” she suggests.

Kaidan murmurs in agreement. He certainly looks tired, although she is sure that she looks far worse.

“What about you?” he asks. He sinks back onto his pillow. Shepard moves her weight off the blanket so that he can burrow beneath it.

“Can’t promise anything,” she replies, figuring she should be honest with him. She is too wide awake now to even consider falling asleep again. Not when such a crucial mission looms impossibly close ahead.

He chuckles. “Should’ve guessed.”

Even though she doesn’t plan on sleeping, Shepard lies down anyway, positioning her body so that she faces Kaidan. Her legs brush up against him under the sheets. “And Kaidan?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know whether we’ll get the chance to say it again before things start getting intense, so… I love you.”

“I love you too, Shepard.” His eyes, visible in the dim light, shine with earnestness. “Until the end of time.”

Shepard may not sleep during the hour and thirteen minutes that pass before the call comes through, but she feels at peace anyway as she watches Kaidan’s sleeping form--and the old, worn dog tags that he keeps clenched in his hand as he slumbers.


	21. Chapter 21

Shepard never thought that she’d be questioning her existence inside Cerberus's base. When she and her squad pass through a room that contains data on various Cerberus projects, however, the information on the Lazarus Project is impossible for her to avoid looking at. She hears the recordings talking about her, about how she’s beyond saving. Clinically brain-dead. The words pierce through Shepard’s armor, shaking her to the core.

“I didn’t realize it was that bad,” she murmurs, staring at the terminal’s screen.

“I thought you were just on life support,” says Kaidan from somewhere behind her. He’s been coming with her on all of her missions lately. She likes to keep him close, knowing that he’ll always have her back. “Clinically brain-dead…”

Hearing the phrase a second time doesn’t lessen its impact. “Yeah, looks like,” she says.

“What was it like, you know, coming back?” he asks. “I mean, if you remember. Or… how do you feel?”

He speaks cautiously, as if he is not sure how she’s going to react. Shepard’s memories of waking up on the Cerberus operating table are equally as fuzzy as her memories of dying, and so she instead addresses his second question.

“I’m still me,” she insists, speaking less to him and more to the tiny hint of doubt inside of her. “I doubt I’d have been able to turn against Cerberus otherwise.”

She _has_ to be the same person as she was before she’d been spaced. They’d had to rebuild the majority of her body from the ground up, but her brain had been intact--and that’s the most important part, isn’t it? The part of her that contains all of her experiences and memories that have made her who she is. Her reconstructed body even feels the same, except for the cybernetics that have a distinctly different sensation than bone or muscle. She can think of more than enough proof that she continues to be the same Commander Shepard who was placed in control of the Normandy three years ago. However, that doesn’t silence the quiet whisper that has haunted her since being brought back, reminding her that Cerberus could have changed her without her knowledge.

“I don’t remember anything,” she continues on. “Maybe they really did just fix me. Or…” She swallows hard, not wanting to admit the private worry that she usually dismisses immediately. “Or maybe I’m just a high-tech VI that thinks it’s Commander Shepard. But I don’t know, I…”

She trails off. She wants nothing more than for Kaidan to touch her and tell her that it will be all right. He can’t physically comfort her, though, not now in the middle of the Cerberus base where they are nothing more but fellow soldiers. The words that he says, however, quiet in her ear as he comes up behind her, are more than enough comfort.

“You’re real enough for me.”

Shepard watches the rest of the recordings on the Lazarus Project out of a sort of morbid curiosity, but nothing else shatters her sense of self-perception any further. She shuts off the terminal and turns to where Kaidan and EDI stand behind her.

“I’m going to check some of the other terminals, see if I can find any more useful data,” she says. “There are probably still Cerberus guards around, so you two should keep watch.”

“Aye-aye, Commander,” they reply.

Shepard walks to the other side of the room, scanning through the files and recordings contained on the terminals there. From what she can tell, they contain details about older projects dating back to over a decade ago. None of them seem to be too important to her--until she comes across the words that shake her even more than the phrase “clinically brain-dead” had done.

_Akuze, 2177._

That was the year that she had been on Akuze. The year that she saw so many soldiers completely slaughtered. The year that she lost Commander Ryan. But why would Cerberus have information about that incident? She recalls her encounter with a fellow Alliance soldier three years ago who had claimed to be another survivor of Akuze, captured by Cerberus scientists as part of their experiment on how humans react to thresher maw attacks. Back then, Shepard dismissed his claims as paranoid ramblings, probably caused by PTSD--she had recognized the signs from her own experiences. Now, though, she cannot escape the realization that there may have been some truth to his words.

The terminal contains multiple files, mostly documents that likely report on what happened there. What catches Shepard’s attention the most is the section marked “Recordings.” Her finger shakes as it hovers above the key to open the vid recordings. She shouldn’t be watching this. She should walk away and pretend that she never saw any of it. But she has to know whether Cerberus is responsible or not, and so the first vid begins to play.

She remembers the scene in front of her like it was yesterday. Fifty marines, all camped outside the abandoned settlement that they had been told to investigate. The surveillance camera capturing the images is too far away for her to identify individuals, but she knows that she is one of the soldiers there. _Ryan_ is one of the soldiers there. Her blood runs cold at the thought.

Shepard is not ready to hear the thresher maw’s shriek. The recording makes the sound tinny and muffled, but it is enough to send a flood of overwhelming terror through her body. She can’t breathe. The chestplate of her armor is too heavy against her chest. She fumbles blindly to try to rip it off, but her fingers are too clumsy to release the seals holding it in place. Her lungs aren’t working anymore. Her breathing comes too roughly for them to be functioning properly.

She hears the faint sound, in that tinny recording quality, of Ryan’s voice, and she falls apart completely. She can’t look at the terminal’s screen anymore, too afraid that she is going to see him. The thresher maw shrieks again, and her knees give way beneath her. She catches herself with her hands, and the ground flashes to the uneven, rocky ground of Akuze.

The screams of the soldiers around her are deafening. Blood splatters across the ground, and oh _God_ there’s so much blood. She sees the bodies that the thresher maw has left in the wake of its attack--except can you really call it a body when only half of it is left, with its limbs completely gone and the armor on the torso crushed, leaving exposed flesh and muscle that has been ripped to shreds? A severed arm lies mere feet from her. The armor surrounding it is burned through by the corrosive acid of the thresher maw’s saliva. Shepard clutches her head in her hands, wanting it all to go away, but the images do not leave.

“Shepard!”

A distant voice calls her name. At first she thinks it’s Ryan, but when she hears the voice again, the tone is too soft and husky to be his. _Kaidan_ , she thinks with the tiny part of her brain that desperately clings to the present moment.

The thresher maw’s screech is uncomfortably close. Shepard knows that it’s coming for her, and soon her body will join the ruined corpses that surround her. She curls in on herself more tightly, hiding behind imaginary cover to protect herself.

She hears Kaidan’s voice, but she can’t make out what he is saying. The touch of a hand to her shoulder forces a scream out of her lungs.

“Shepard, it’s me,” Kaidan says. “It’s okay. You’re not there anymore. You’re here. You’re safe.”

She blinks. Her vision is blurry, but she sees Kaidan crouched down in front of her. His hand remains on her shoulder. She wants to say something to him, but her throat doesn’t work. Everything is oddly quiet, although the phantom scent of blood and death lingers in her nostrils.

“Major Alenko,” she hears EDI say. “There are hostile forces approaching. I believe Cerberus knows our location.”

Cerberus. They are the ones who did this. It is their fault that Akuze happened. It is their fault that Commander Ryan is dead and Shepard has been left behind with the survivor’s guilt that has haunted her for the past nine years. The full extent of this revelation makes her unable to breathe again. Cerberus troops are coming, and she can’t breathe. Some soldier she is.

She is dimly aware of Kaidan’s voice nearby. “You’re going to have to take care of them, EDI,” he says. “I have to keep Shepard safe.”

Shepard’s chest feels like it’s about to burst out of her armor. Cold sweat drips down the back of her neck. She wants to take her armor off. She wants to hide in a secluded spot where no one can see her, but her body refuses to move from its current position. All of the noises around her echo strangely. She thinks she hears gunfire.

“Shit,” Kaidan mutters, glancing behind him. A biotic barrier flares into existence around them, protecting them from the line of fire. “Look at me, River. I need you to listen to me, okay?” His voice is quiet and serious, and she’s _River_ to him now, the vulnerable person hidden behind the armor of Commander Shepard. He cups her face in his hands, forcing her to look up at him. “You’re not on Akuze anymore. You’re with me, and I’m going to get you through this. _We’re_ going to get you through this. Nod if you understand me.”

She nods. A shaky breath rises out of her lungs.

“Okay. I need you to focus on breathing, all right?” Kaidan lets go of her face, and he pulls at the glove on her right hand, removing the protective material covering her skin. He takes hold of her exposed hand and presses her first two fingers to the pulse point at his throat. “Feel my pulse? Focus on that. Make it remind you that you’re here.”

His pulse beats out a rhythm under her fingertips. It’s a little faster than normal, but it is steady enough that she can soon anticipate when the next beat will be. The constant presence of his heartbeat calms her, helping slow down her own heart rate.

“Now breathe in. Slowly. Count to five.” She hears the quiet sound of Kaidan’s intake of breath, showing her what to do. “Hold it until I tell you, and then breathe out. Okay?”

Shepard copies his deep inhale. The controlled breath fills up her lungs, preventing the ragged bursts of hyperventilation from escaping.

“Good,” he encourages her. “Nice deep breath. Are you counting to five?”

She nods. Her lips move along soundlessly as she counts. She feels Kaidan’s skin under her fingertips, thrumming with the energy that sustains the biotic barrier around them.

“Okay, now hold that breath for just a couple seconds,” Kaidan says. “Good. Now breathe out slowly. Not too fast.”

Shepard does so. Her head becomes less fuzzy, and her vision clears. Behind Kaidan she sees EDI darting behind cover before shooting at the Cerberus troops. A panicked intake of breath shakes her body.

“Don’t think about anything else,” Kaidan tells her. “Try it again. Count to five as you breathe in, hold it, and breathe out. Can you do that for me?”

She nods. The inhale of breath fills her lungs as she counts--one, two, three, four, five. She lets the breath stay in place briefly before exhaling.

“Good,” says Kaidan. “One more time.”

The third round of deep breaths calms her even more. Kaidan has become more relaxed too. His pulse remains steady against her fingers, a constant rhythm like a ticking clock. Shepard presses her forehead against his as she breathes out, wanting to see only him and not EDI fighting elsewhere in the room.

“See? You’re already breathing easier.” Kaidan’s voice is both encouraging and relieved. “You’re here and you’re safe. Remember that.”

 _Here_ and _safe_. The two words repeat themselves in her mind as she keeps breathing in and out. The weight of her armor is no longer heavy on her chest. She is alive and breathing. _Here_. _Safe_.

Kaidan touches a hand to her cheek. The warmth of his touch feels good against her skin. He doesn’t kiss her, not in the middle of a combat zone, but he does hold her tightly in his arms under the lingering protection of the biotic barrier.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “You’re okay.”

Shepard stays there in his arms as her strength gradually returns to her. Eventually, the room falls silent after EDI has disposed of the last of the Cerberus guards. Kaidan lets down the barrier, breathing heavily from the exertion of keeping his biotics going for so long. He takes out a small canteen of water and drinks from it.

“Here,” he says, offering it to her once he has had his fill. “You should drink.”

The water is lukewarm, but it refreshes her. When she hands it back to him, he gives her the glove that he had removed from her hand. She slides it back on over the bare skin, securing it in place connected to the greaves covering her forearm. She is safe now. Protected.

“Are you good to stand?” asks Kaidan, putting the canteen away.

“Yeah,” Shepard replies. She braces a hand against his shoulder, and he helps her rise to her feet. She doesn’t look at the terminal in front of her. The recording has stopped playing. She suspects that Kaidan had turned it off when he had found her collapsed on her knees, rendered completely broken by the reminder of what had happened on Akuze.

EDI walks over to meet them. The small burn that has corroded through the metal plating on her left shoulder is her only indicator of any injury sustained during her one-AI-stand against the Cerberus troops. Shepard almost wants to hug her for unhesitatingly taking down the hostiles by herself while her Commander had been incapacitated.

“Are you all right, Shepard?” EDI inquires. Her head tilts to the side in concern.

“Better now,” is the best response she can think of, because she’s not exactly _good_ , but she’s not curled up in a ball on the ground either. “We should keep moving,” she says, returning to the confident words of leadership. “I’ve had enough of this place.”

They move out, no questions asked.

* * *

A few hours later, Kai Leng is dead, Cerberus is all but finished, and the Prothean VI that will complete the Crucible is safely in Alliance hands. Shepard has never liked killing people; she likes _protecting_ people, and she sees killing as only a means to the end of keeping the galaxy safe. When she stabs her omni-blade into Kai Leng’s body, though, she feels the rush of bloodlust that she hasn’t really felt since she was sixteen years old, repeatedly driving a hunting knife into a batarian’s chest. Killing him won’t bring anyone back, even though she snarls “That was for Thane, you son of a bitch” to him as she activates her omni-blade, but in that moment, she convinces herself that she is avenging everything that Cerberus has done.

Of course, the Illusive Man remains at large as the one remnant of Cerberus, but she’s going to take care of him later. Earth comes first, and now that the Citadel is orbiting humanity’s home planet with the Crucible almost ready to be activated, they are closing in on the most critical moment of the war.

Shepard returns to the Normandy exhausted, but she doesn’t have time to sleep. Her primary concern is about Kaidan, whose paleness and lack of focus when they return to the shop is a sign that he is on the brink of a migraine. She takes him straight to the medbay at his request (and when he tells her he needs Chakwas, she knows it’s bad, considering how he usually denies how much pain he’s in). Once Kaidan is under Chakwas’s care, Shepard goes up to her cabin to shower. She’s going to have to put her armor on again once they reach Earth, but she’d like to have a fresh start when that happens. She is still a little shaken up from the panic attack as well, and showering always helps her soothe any kind of emotional exhaustion.

She returns to the medbay fifteen minutes later to find Kaidan resting, eyes closed and either sleeping or close to sleep, and so she instead speaks to Chakwas. As she sits down in front of the doctor, she hopes with every fiber of her being that Kaidan will recover in time to be part of the shore party on Earth. When she has thought about the moment when she returns to Earth, Kaidan has always been beside her. The possibility of him not being at her side makes her feel lost, floating through space without an anchor.

“As far as I can tell, the probable cause was an overexertion of his biotics,” explains Chakwas. “A longer than usual period of biotic use without proper cooldown can overheat his amp, causing irritation in the implant that may lead to a more severe migraine.”

It must have been the barrier that Kaidan had put around her. Usually, his biotic barriers only stay up for a minute at the most before he has to cool down, but he had sustained that barrier for a much longer uninterrupted period of time. Having to fight in moderate to heavy combat in the hours immediately following probably didn’t help him either.

“Did you notice any overuse of his biotics?” Chakwas continues on. “Usually he’s good at recognizing his limits, so I’m surprised that this happened.”

“He, uh, he ended up having to hold up a barrier for a while,” Shepard admits. “To protect me.” At Chakwas’s concerned look, she adds, “Because I was kind of having a panic attack. A pretty bad one. There were… I was having flashbacks. To Akuze.”

“You should have told me earlier.” Chakwas tsks in a sound of combined worry and reprimand. She puts down the datapad that displays the results of the quick examinations she had done on Kaidan.

“I know.” Shepard is not exactly embarrassed to discuss aspects of her psychological health with Chakwas, who has had to calm her down from panic attacks on more than one occasion. With the counterattack on Earth so close to its fulfillment, however, Shepard doesn’t want the pity and concern of others holding her back.

“Was there any trigger that set it off?” Chakwas inquires.

“I found a recording about what happened there.” Shepard swallows hard, not wanting to talk about that terrible moment when she pressed play and the thresher maw’s shriek had immobilized her. “It was--it was Cerberus’s fault the massacre happened. It was all an experiment.”

Chakwas reaches a hand toward Shepard and touches her shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort. “How are you feeling now?” she asks, her words remaining strictly business. “Any lingering dizziness, shortness of breath?”

Shepard shakes her head. “I’m better now. Took a shower when I came back, and that helped.”

“I see.” Chakwas pauses, looking thoughtful. Shepard knows that look: it’s the “maybe we should do one more test to be sure” kind of look. “If you don’t mind, it would make me feel better if I checked a few things. Heart rate, blood pressure. Nothing too complicated,” she adds before Shepard can object.

“I’m fine, doc,” Shepard insists.

“I know, but sometimes I worry about you, Commander.” Chakwas’s voice has a distinctly motherly tone to it. She bustles about, retrieving the devices that she will need. “Extreme manifestations of stress and anxiety are not going to do you any good during an important time like this.”

Shepard relents, allowing Chakwas to check her pulse and blood pressure. “A little elevated,” she says after she has looked at the results. “Nothing to worry about, but you should try to stay relaxed.”

“Can’t really stay relaxed when I’m going to be on Earth in a few hours,” Shepard points out. She rolls her shoulders in an automatic motion to attempt to relieve the tension that she holds in her body.

Chakwas hums in agreement. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Another option is that I can prescribe you some short-term anti-anxiety medication if that would be something you’re interested in.”

“No. I’ll be fine.” Shepard stands up, hoping that she will be able to leave before Chakwas decides to carry out any other last-minute examinations. “Would I be allowed to talk to Kaidan if he’s awake?” she inquires. She doesn’t know whether she is going to have another chance to talk to him before they arrive on Earth, and she wants to take any chance that she can.

“I don’t see why not,” Chakwas replies. She smiles knowingly, the same kind of smile that everyone gives her when they are silently conveying the message of “I know that you two are together, and I’m not going to say anything.” “And if I don’t see you later, Commander, good luck on Earth. I fully believe in you.”

“Thanks, doc.”

Chakwas’s confidence in her is heartening to hear. After bidding farewell to her, Shepard makes her way over to Kaidan’s bedside. His eyes are closed, and so she cannot determine whether he is sleeping or not. She sits next to him, taking hold of his hand.

“Kaidan? Are you awake?” She keeps her voice quiet, not wanting to wake him or aggravate any sensitivity to noise that he may be experiencing.

“Yeah,” he replies. He squeezes her hand as a physical reminder that he is indeed awake. “Just feels better to have my eyes closed right now. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” Shepard’s thumb strokes across the skin of his hand. “I, um. I should be the one apologizing to you, actually. If I hadn’t, you know, completely broken down inside the Cerberus base, you wouldn’t have had to overwork your biotics to protect me. It’s my fault.”

“No. It wasn’t your fault,” Kaidan assures her. “No matter what the consequences, I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. And yeah, okay, the migraine kind of sucks.” He grimaces, as if a fresh wave of pain has hit him to reinforce his words. “But we have each other’s backs, and I definitely wasn’t going to let yours get a bullet in it.”

Shepard continues to stroke his hand in an absent motion. “Do you think you’re going to be up on your feet soon enough to be part of my team on Earth?” she asks. She’s not sure whether she’s ready to hear the answer to this question.

“I… Well, I think the decision is going to be more up to Chakwas than me, but yeah, I hope so.” He opens his eyes, squinting against the lights of the medbay that Chakwas has dimmed for his comfort. “But I’m with you until the end, Shepard. No matter what.”

“I know.” She squeezes his hand tightly, not wanting to think about how the end may be coming very soon--if not for the entire galaxy, then at least for her.

Kaidan closes his eyes again. His forehead crinkles in pain before relaxing. “So what are you going to do now?” he asks.

“I need to make the rounds and check on everything,” she replies. “Might go up to my cabin and take a breather for a while, though. Maybe actually listen to doctor’s orders for once.” She glances over her shoulder to where Chakwas sits at her desk. “I’ll be back to see how you’re doing a little later. You should rest up.”

“Aye-aye, ma’am.” Kaidan smiles, raising his free hand into a salute. Shepard allows a smile to cross her lips as well. She presses a kiss to his hand before letting go and leaving the medbay.

She returns to her cabin and sits at her desk, and for once she doesn’t have any work to do. If she checks her email, she will likely have various minor things to address, but for now, all of her major duties have been taken care of. The galaxy’s fleets are assembling near Earth, and if everything goes well, the Reapers aren’t going to know what hit them. And if everything doesn’t go well… well, Shepard still doesn’t want to think about that any more than she did several hours ago lying in bed with Kaidan. Either way, the galaxy is going to be a very different place when all of this is over.

There is, however, one more thing left for her to do, and she has to do it now when Kaidan is not by her side. Shepard pulls up her omni-tool and stares at the interface, trying to bring herself to do what she considered doing ever since deciding that she needs to leave pieces of herself behind for him. This is different from giving him her old tags, though. That had been a promise to survive, but this--this is a message from the dead.

She opens the vid recording software. She has no specific plan of what to say, but speaking from the heart with whatever words come to mind seems like a good start. Her finger hesitates before pressing the “record” button.

“Hi, Kaidan.” Her voice is already trembling. “If you’re watching this, I guess it means that I didn’t make it. And… I don’t know what things will be like when you’re watching this, but all I can really say is don’t give up. You’ve done so much for me over the course of the war, and I don’t want to think about you losing that strength that you’ve shown me. I… God, Kaidan, I love you so much. I don’t even want to think about a world where we’re apart from each other.” A shaky breath escapes from her. Tears form unbidden in the corners of her eyes. “I didn’t want to die. And sitting here, right now, thinking about how it might be all over for me soon… It scares me. I wanted to survive. I _want_ to survive.”

Shepard cannot hold back her tears any longer. They spill forth, and she lets the tears roll down her cheeks as sobs shake her body. She doesn’t care that she, Commander Shepard, is breaking down hours before the most important mission of her life. In this moment, she is nothing more than a person terrified of her own mortality and losing what is important.

The vid is still recording. She runs a hand across her eyes, wiping away the tears that linger there, and presses the “stop” button. The software asks if she wishes to save the recording. Without hesitation, she selects “no,” and the vid vanishes. She wipes her eyes again, sniffling quietly.

Shepard dismisses her omni-tool and walks over to her bed. Sitting down on the unmade surface, she looks up through the skylight at the stars above her. She is almost there, almost to Earth where everything is going to change.

And when she gets there, she is going to live.


	22. Chapter 22

The streets of London are surprisingly quiet when Shepard talks to her crew for the last time before she leads the final assault toward the Conduit that will bring her to the Citadel. “The calm before the storm” is the best phrase that she can think of to describe the last few quiet moments she has to encourage and reminisce with her comrades before they press forward. She is even able to contact those who are fighting elsewhere, either on Earth or throughout the galaxy, letting them know that she’s thinking of them and wishing them the best before she heads for the Conduit.

She deliberately saves talking to Kaidan for last. She is determined not to think of this as goodbye, but his tearful whisper of “I can’t lose you again” after he kisses her (regs be damned) nearly sends her over the emotional edge. They don’t say any official goodbyes now, not yet. Instead, they part with the neutral words of “Take care, Major” and “I should find the rest of my squad” before Shepard gathers her troops to make one final inspirational speech.

And after that, she fights.

She fights like she has been born to do so, clearing out the endless swarms of Reaper forces that stand in her way. She tells everyone with her that there is no one else she would rather do this with, and no matter how slim the odds seem, they are going to do what needs to be done to ensure that the Crucible is ready to go. The what-ifs don’t matter to her anymore; her only choice is to press on, even when a Reaper--Harbinger--stands directly in her path to reach the Conduit.

A blast from Harbinger knocks her off-balance as she runs faster than she has ever run in her life. She scrambles to her feet and turns around to make sure that Kaidan and Garrus are still behind her. A vehicle upturned from the blast flies toward them, and they scatter before it lands with an explosion that leaves Shepard’s ears ringing. She dashes back toward them, leaping over an overturned vehicle to reach the smoky remnants of the explosion. No man left behind, she tells herself, especially if the men in question are the love of her life and her best friend.

Garrus is bloodied but mostly unharmed except for a slight limp when he stands. Shepard can already tell that Kaidan is in worse shape, however, and she offers him a hand to help him to his feet. She drapes his arm across his shoulders as they stumble toward cover together with Garrus behind them.

“You okay?” she asks Kaidan.

He nods. Scattered splashes of blood mark his face. The chestplate of his armor is cracked and burned, making Shepard wonder whether he is further injured beneath his armor.

“What about you, Garrus?”

“Never better,” he assures her. An explosion sounds nearby, and all three of them instinctively duck further under cover. “Going to take a lot more than that to do me in.”

Shepard evaluates the situation. The initial plan was to get a small squad to the Conduit, but it is becoming increasingly clear that even a small squad is not going to be able to get that far without suffering losses. With Kaidan and Garrus likely no longer able to make the run, she’s going to have to send them back to the Normandy. The only way she has a chance is if she continues on without them.

 _You have a better chance on your own._ She remembers Commander Ryan’s words to her on Akuze, telling her to leave him and escape to the landing zone. Now, nine years later, she is the one having to make that call, ordering her subordinates to retreat so that she can carry out a potentially suicidal mission by herself. She used to never understand why Ryan had made a decision like that, but now, watching the chaos unfolding around her as the Reapers continue their assault, she knows why he did it. She is responsible for dragging Kaidan and Garrus into this with her, and she’ll be damned if she lets either of them fall victim to the Reapers’ slaughter. She is going to destroy every Reaper that stands in her way, and if she wants to do that, she will have to leave her comrades behind.

“Normandy, do you copy?” she says into her comm. “I need an evac right now!”

“We’re taking heavy losses up here, Commander,” comes Joker’s static-filled reply.

“Kaidan and Garrus are hurt. They have to get back to the ship. If you can find an opening, get your ass down here!”

“Shepard--” Kaidan begins in protest to her actions. He winces, touching a hand to his cracked armor.

She holds a hand up to silence him, shaking her head in a silent command not to argue as she listens for Joker’s response.

“On our way, Commander,” Joker confirms. “Sit tight.”

“Roger that,” Shepard replies. “Shepard out.”

Another blast shakes the ground. They’re going to have to move quick to get back to the Normandy without facing further injury.

The Normandy descends in an emergency landing a few minutes later. “Come on!” she yells to Kaidan and Garrus. Kaidan clings to her for support as they run as fast as they can toward where the ship has landed. The smoky air burns Shepard’s lungs, but she doesn’t stop running until she and her comrades reach the landing ramp.

“Here.” She unwraps Kaidan’s arm from around her.and hands him off to Garrus. “Take him.”

“Shepard!” Kaidan yells to her, stopping her before she can run off. She won’t leave yet, though, not without saying goodbye to him. She can’t hide from it anymore--this is the farewell that she has wanted to hide from for as long as possible.

“You’ve got to get out of here,” she says.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Kaidan grimaces in pain as he leans against Garrus to keep himself upright. Shepard doesn’t know whether the pain that Kaidan feels is more physical or emotional.

“Don’t argue with me, Kaidan.” She hopes that the hard edge in her voice will make it clear that this order is not negotiable.

“Don’t leave me behind,” he pleads.

The look on his face breaks her heart, as does the waver in his voice. He looks like he has gone through hell in the last ten seconds, having to face the reality of leaving without her. As much as seeing him in such emotional agony pains her, however, Shepard is not going to change her mind.

She takes a few steps closer to him and touches a gloved hand to his cheek in a final gesture of affection. “No matter what happens,” she says, speaking as softly as is possible with the rage of battle surrounding them, “know that I love you. Always.”

A quiet breath, halfway between a sigh and sob, escapes from between Kaidan’s lips. “I love you too,” he replies.

Despite the wetness shining in his eyes, he looks at her with a steady gaze. Shepard doesn’t want to let go of him. She wants to stay with him in this moment forever, remaining by his side until the Reapers complete their destruction and take their lives along with those of the rest of the galaxy. She has made a promise to survive, though, and that is what she is going to do.

She moves her hand down his cheek in a final caress before stepping away. Their eyes remain focused on each other, and Shepard suspects it will remain that way until the last possible moment.

“Be careful,” Kaidan says as Shepard steps back. He reaches a hand out to her, but she can no longer reach it. Instead, she smiles in a silent promise to him.

She glances back at the path toward the Conduit. Harbinger remains as its colossal defender, but if she hurries, she may be able to evade its assault. She doesn’t have many options left. It’s now or never.

“Go!” she yells, signaling for the Normandy to retreat. She lets her eyes focus on Kaidan for one long moment, memorizing everything about him so that thoughts of him can sustain her through the end of the mission. The one thing that she knows will stay in her mind is the teardrops that slide down his cheeks, mixing with the blood that stains his face.

She turns away from him. As she runs toward the Conduit, she thinks about a story that her mother used to tell her: the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, in which Orpheus was forbidden to look back at Eurydice while leaving the underworld or else she will disappear. Likewise, Shepard is determined to not look back at Kaidan, fearing that she will lose him the second she turns back. The only difference is that instead of walking away from death, Shepard is running towards it.

An abandoned vehicle explodes in her path, knocking her to the ground. She stumbles to her feet, the world echoing strangely around her due to the temporary hearing loss from the explosion. The synthetic sound of Harbinger’s voice says something as she continues to run forward, but she can’t make out what it says.

She looks up, and a red beam blasts through her.

* * *

The first thing Shepard hears when she regains consciousness is the chatter coming through her comm. She is not yet lucid enough to pick out individual voices, but the message that they convey comes through loud and clear: _Fall back to the buildings. Retreat_.

Shepard reaches for her gun and immediately sees that the armor on her right arm has been burned through. Her skin underneath is relatively unharmed except for light burns, but the protective covering of her armor is now useless. She rips off her right greave and glove, and upon seeing that her left arm is in a similar condition, she does the same to that arm. Next she tries to sit up, only to be met with an intense burst of pain that spreads so far throughout her body that she cannot determine its source. She inspects the condition of the rest of her armor. The chestplate has suffered major damage, and she is not yet certain of how much of that damage extends to her body. All she knows is that it really fucking _hurts_.

She rises unsteadily to her feet and immediately discovers that she can barely stand up straight. Keeping a tight hold on her gun, she limps forward, ready to shoot any of the lesser Reaper forces that stand in her way. The bodies of the rest of the soldiers who had tried to make it to the Conduit lie around her. Completely decimated--like Akuze.

She is able to shoot a few husks before her legs give out from under her, sending her falling to her knees. Despite her body’s protests, she stands up once more and continues on. The Conduit is so close that she can hear the thrum of its energy. She is not going to give up now, no matter how battered and broken her body is.

A marauder dashes out from behind cover, shooting at her. The bullet grazes her unprotected right arm, and she cries out in pain. One bullet isn’t enough to stop Commander Shepard, though. She lines up the shot and takes down the marauder, giving her a clear path to the Conduit. With her small, limping steps, it seems to take an age to get there, but soon its bright blue light surrounds her. Her body tingles with energy before she leaves Earth behind, blasting through time and space to reach the Citadel.

When she is next aware of herself, she is lying facedown on a hard surface. A familiar voice in her ear whispers her name. Anderson. Shepard blinks to adjust her eyes to the dim red light of her new environment. At least she’s not the only one who made it to the Conduit, and Anderson’s voice on her comm is a comforting sound as they navigate their way towards each other. Walking remains difficult, but she keeps her pace slow and steady until they find each other.

Upon finding Anderson, however, she discovers that they’re not alone. The Illusive Man is here too, and he remains determined in his goal to control the Reapers--no matter how much Shepard and Anderson try to convince him that there are other ways. It doesn’t matter what the Illusive Man intends to do, though. Shepard knows more than anything that controlling the Reapers isn’t the answer, and she is certainly not going to let him follow through with his scheme. Not after everything that he has done. Not after all the ways that Cerberus has ruined her life.

All it takes, though, is the Illusive Man’s realization that he is nothing more than an indoctrinated puppet of the Reapers, and then Cerberus is finally finished. More importantly, Shepard’s way forward is clear. Right now the only thought in her mind is carrying out her objective to open the arms of the Citadel so that the Crucible can dock.

She limps forward, one hand pressed to her abdomen because oh God, it hurts. She activates the controls to open the arms, revealing a full view of the battle raging above Earth. Mission complete--although Shepard isn’t sure whether she’d going to be able to do anything else when she can barely stand without having to hold on to the terminal for support.

She hears Anderson’s labored breathing somewhere behind her, and she realizes that he’s dying from the injuries he sustained during their encounter with the Illusive Man. Taking a shot to the stomach will do that to a person, she thinks bitterly.

She walks, very slowly, over to where he sits leaning against the wall. With a stifled groan of pain, she sits next to him. Only now does she see the full extent of her own injuries. The front of her armor hasn’t been merely damaged; parts of it have melted into a molten mass that lies heavy on her chest. Some of the skin beneath has been burned, leaving behind charred flesh. That would explain most of the pain.

“Commander,” says Anderson in acknowledgement of her.

“We did it, sir,” Shepard replies. A small sigh of relief leaves her mouth.

“Yes, we did.” He smiles, albeit weakly. He looks out at the fleets fighting for their lives against the Reapers. “It’s quite a view.”

“Best seats in the house,” she agrees. Even sitting hurts now. She presses a hand to her abdomen again, and a shaky breath of pain escapes from her.

“God, feels like years since I’ve just… sat down.” Anderson gives a nostalgic sigh.

Shepard understands the feeling completely. Even during the time that she has had to relax throughout this war, there has always been some other task looming on the horizon, waiting for her to attend to it. For Anderson it has surely been even worse, since leading the resistance effort on Earth leaves little time for any sort of downtime.

“I think you’ve earned a rest,” she says. _Earned_. She thinks about Ryan and how he’d told her that if she doesn’t think she has the strength to survive, then she needs to earn it. At the rate that she is deteriorating, she isn’t sure whether she will be able to hold onto that strength for much longer.

Anderson murmurs in agreement. “You ever wonder how things would’ve been different?” he asks her. “How our lives would have been different if this hadn’t happened?” He coughs. Shepard hates the way that he wheezes as he tries to regain his breath. “I never had a family of my own, Shepard.”

“There will be enough time for that now,” she replies They’ve given life to future generations by doing what needs to be done to stop the Reapers. All of the children in the universe, born and unborn, have their efforts to thank for being able to live in a better future. It’s an enormous realization.

“I…” Anderson laughs weakly. “I think that ship has sailed. But what about you? Ever think about settling down?”

“I’m a soldier, Anderson, like you,” Shepard points out. Since the age of eighteen, she has known no other life but the military. The idea of settling down and living a civilian life is so foreign to her now. “I’m not really fit for doing anything else.”

“Sure you are.” Another laugh, although this time it quickly turns into a wheezing cough. “You take down the Reapers, and you can do anything. Think about it. The first two human Spectres settling down together, helping to rebuild the next generation.”

It takes Shepard a moment before she realizes that Anderson has said “first two human Spectres.” In other circumstances she would be surprised that Anderson knows about her and Kaidan’s relationship, but now, she doesn’t care. There are more important things for her to worry about besides her breach of the fraternization regs--like surviving.

“Yeah,” she says. “I like the sound of that.” She and Kaidan have never discussed their future, too focused on getting through the war to do so, but in the back of her mind she has entertained idle thoughts of them retiring from active duty and living together on Earth. She can’t shake the mental image of them chasing after two children who run through a wide-open field. _Their_ children.

“I’m not sure I’d be much good at it, though,” she admits.

“I don’t know, Shepard. I think you’d make a great mom.” Anderson smiles fondly at her. The expression is so parental that it makes Shepard’s heart ache.

“Yeah?”

“Think about how proud your kids would be, telling everyone their mom is Commander Shepard.”

“I don’t know about that,” says Shepard. “Not everything I’ve done is something to be proud of.” She may have plenty of stories of heroism that would impress any child, but her military career has never been about playing the hero. It has been about making tough decisions and accepting the sacrifices of others, and none of it has ever been easy.

“But it was enough.” Anderson lays a shaking hand on her shoulder. She winces from the contact against her burned and broken skin, but she doesn’t move away from his touch. “You did good, child. You did good.”

His breathing is now rougher and more infrequent. His eyes close, and he slumps down further in his seated position, moving his hand from her shoulder.

“I’m… so proud of you.”

“Thank you, sir,” she says in automatic response. She hears a final shaking breath from him, and then nothing.

“Anderson…?” Her heartbeat quickens, because it _can’t_ be the end for him, not yet. “Stay with me,” she pleads. “We’re almost through this. We have to--” She breaks off and shakes his shoulder to try to rouse him. The reality of the situation is inescapable, though. He’s gone.

A deep sense of loss pierces Shepard to her core. She has lost people who have greatly impacted her life on multiple occasions, of course: her parents, Commander Ryan. With them, however, she hadn’t been present at their deaths. She’d been hiding upstairs in her house when the batarians had killed her parents, and she’d been running to the landing zone when Ryan had succumbed to his injuries from fighting the thresher maw. Now, for the first time, a beloved mentor and parental figure has died by her side, and she is as powerless to help him as she had been for her parents and Ryan.

Shepard moves her hand away from her abdomen to see that it is covered with her blood. If she doesn’t get medical help soon, there is a very real possibility that she may be joining Anderson in death. Her promise to survive slowly fades away as she sits here, too weak to move. She thinks about Kaidan on the Normandy. At least he is safe, likely being patched up by Chakwas right this moment. If she dies here, she’ll regret not having him by her side. Knowing that he is safe, however, is the next best thing that she could ask for.

 _But you’re not going to die_ , a quiet voice in her head whispers. _You have to live. For Kaidan and everyone else you care about, you have to survive_.

“Shepard? Commander?” The sound of Hackett’s voice on her comm breaks through her thoughts.

“I--” She groans in pain. Even the slight movement of muscles needed to begin to stand up sends a wave of unbearable agony through her body. “What do you need me to do?”

She supports most of her weight on her right elbow and forearm, pushing herself onto her hands and knees. When she tries to stand, she can barely straighten her back from her hunched position before she falls forward with a cry of pain.

“Nothing’s happening,” Hackett says. “The Crucible’s not firing. It’s got to be something on your end.”

Shepard drags herself across the floor, using her arms to pull herself forward and hoping that the rest of her body follows. Each touch of her hands to the floor leaves behind bloody partial handprints that mark a trail behind her as she crawls toward the control panel that she’d used to open the Citadel’s arms.

“Commander Shepard, do you read me?” Hackett prompts her at her lack of response.

She kneels, keeping one hand on the ground for support, and reaches upward in a blind motion. There’s no way she’ll be able to reach the controls, not without standing up.

“I don’t see…” She stretches her arm upward as far as it can go, but it only brushes uselessly against the bottom of the control panel, leaving red streaks of blood behind. A pained gasp of breath forces itself out of her lungs in protest to her exertions. “I’m not sure how to…”

She falls forward onto her stomach. The world blurs around her as she struggles to keep her head up. The light collision of her head against the floor is only an afterthought of pain as she struggles to cling to consciousness. She thinks she hears Hackett’s voice calling her name over the comm, but she is too weak to respond. She closes her eyes, refusing to give herself over to oblivion. Not yet.

“Wake up,” an unfamiliar voice says to her.

Shepard opens her eyes. She is in a different place now, and an apparition resembling the boy from her dreams stands in front of her. The Catalyst, she soon learns. The architect of the Reapers and the cycle of harvesting old lives to make way for new ones.

She listens to what the Catalyst has to say, and she chooses.

She stumbles down the path to her right, shooting at the structure that stands in the way of the Crucible firing. With each shot, she thinks about those whom she cares about. Kaidan’s face remains in her memory the longest. She remembers what it feels like to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. To hear the sound of his voice soft in her ear, whispering words of love. The thought of seeing him again pushes her forward, her teeth clenched hard against the pain as she continues to shoot.

A pulse of red energy blinds her, and the explosion that follows swallows her up.

* * *

Shepard has been here before.

She knows this place, the strange liminal space between two extremes, like the fuzzy feeling between sleep and waking where you merely _exist_ , not tied down by any thoughts or emotions. The last time she was here, she’d been fighting, her lungs struggling for breath as she floated through the emptiness of space, refusing to believe the reality that the breach in her protective suit wouldn’t leave her with enough air to save herself. That she’d be released into the endless black abyss and fall burning to a planet’s surface long after life has left her. This time, however, she doesn’t fight. Everything is warm and familiar, like she’s being welcomed home.

And maybe she _is_ home, she realizes as the blurry image of a house materializes in front of her. She recognizes it as her childhood home on Mindoir, the place that she has not seen since the Alliance rescued her from the wreckage sixteen years ago. And there, standing on the porch…

“Mom,” she says, blinking at the figures in front of her. “Dad.”

Her parents smile. In this moment, she becomes aware of herself, finding a corporeal form and transforming into something beyond mere thoughts and feelings. She isn’t in her adult body, but rather the body of her younger self. Her limbs are long and gangly, having not quite grown into herself yet, and long hair hangs loose down her back. She runs forward to hug her parents, being enfolded in a warm familial embrace that she hasn’t felt in years.

“Welcome home, kiddo,” her father says.

“We’ve missed you,” her mother adds.

After what feels like an eternity, Shepard withdraws from her parents’ arms. A whisper at the surface of her consciousness reminds her that this isn’t real. The environment around her flickers like the blip of a lost connection, as if her surroundings are reacting to this tiny hint of doubt.

“You’re… here,” she says, her mouth moving carefully around the words, afraid that the images will vanish if she lets herself acknowledge them for too long.

“And you’re here,” her mother echoes her. Her hand reaches out to stroke Shepard’s hair. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Shepard looks from her mother to her father. The feeling of warm familiarity fades, rapidly being replaced by a disconcerting sense of wrongness. As much as she wants to stay here, something is inherently not right about the situation. Her surroundings flicker like static once more.

 _You don’t belong here_ , a voice whispers in her ear. Kaidan’s voice. The sound makes her stomach lurch, as if she is about to pull herself out of a dream.

“We’re so proud of you,” her father says. “You’ve lived a good life. It’s time for you to rest.”

She _wants_ to. She wants to wrap herself in that warm familiarity, leaving behind all of her pain and struggle to give herself over to the inevitable end. But…

 _Please, Shepard_ , Kaidan’s voice implores. _You have to live. For everyone. For me._

Shepard blinks. The images of her parents remain, but something about her has changed. She has reverted (or perhaps evolved) into Shepard the soldier once more, the weight of her armor heavy on her body. She touches the chain of the dog tags at her neck, thinking about the duplicate copies that she’d given to Kaidan. She has to find a way back to him, and staying here won’t bring her any closer to him. His words replay in her head, reminding her of how much he needs her. How much _she_ needs _him_.

“I don’t belong here,” she says, her decisive words echoing around her. She watches her parents’ faces shift, disappointment and grief replacing pride and joy. “I’m sorry. But… they need me there.”

In the end, her parents both nod. “We understand,” says her father.

“We’ll be here when you’re ready,” her mother assures her.

Shepard allows herself to embrace them one more time. Their bodies feel so small in her strong arms.

“I should go,” she says in a quiet voice. Her parents nod again, and their smiles are the last thing she sees before she turns away from them.

Countless voices echo in her mind as she walks away, the words of those who have already come here to accept the embrace of death. _It’s not time for you to stop playing the hero yet, Commander_. Ashley. _Already escaped death more than once, Shepard. Not productive to die now_. Mordin. _You must continue to fight on for your victory, Shepard_. Thane. _Shepard- Commander. This unit has come to the consensus that it is not time for you to shut down_. Legion. _You’ve accomplished so much, Shepard. You have to survive to help the galaxy rebuild_. Anderson.

And then, finally, she hears the voice of Commander Ryan, telling her the words that she has longed to hear from him: _You’re strong enough to survive this, Shepard. You’ve earned it._

The world fades out around her. She has returned to that liminal space, the quiet existence between sleep and wakefulness. The only thing that holds her fast in place is the whisper of Kaidan’s voice: _Wake up_.

Everything forms around her once more. She doesn’t open her eyes, but she knows that she has returned to reality: a reality in which she has emerged triumphant in her fight against the Reapers. A breath of air enters her crushed and aching lungs.

She breathes.


End file.
